The Forest

The never-ending sight of trees surrounded the couple, turning left, or to the right; it was in no particular direction that their straining vision would capture any sort of landmark to point the way. The overhead branches blocked out what light there might have been, and they both longed for the brisk air of the mountains of Tulsiria that they called home. A perfect place with that familiar light always obstructed by rock and snow. The two days that led them here, and the thought of the days to come brought upon the feeling of hopeless dread and their minds, in a slow and unnerving quietness understood that they might never escape. It was, however, not for their own safety which concerned them; but for that of their infantile daughter.

Direction-less wandering, deeper into the forest than one would normally go to for exploration, causes them a fleeting argument, “If we are to die,” the father reflected, his ash-gray eyes darting between his wife and child, “then maybe we should prepare for the worst, build us a life so we can raise our baby girl, or at least commune with the forest so it can raise her if we die soon.” His hand brushed with care across both of his loved ones; his wife’s cheek and his daughter’s forehead.

“Starvation will not prove our story’s end.” A stern and commanding tone, unlike what her physical features would lead one to believe, “We have survived far worse than this, our current disaster is our own damn fault for choosing this as a hiding place, I agree, but this end will not be ours.” A glance down towards her daughter, “Not just yet.” Her snow-white eyes darted around the forest until they fell on an unknowing prey of deer. In an expeditious one-handed form, the mother extended herself outward, the deer’s movements abruptly coming to a standstill as both living creatures met in a soul-tethering gaze. Turning her palm up and towards her own face, the mother not only sealed the gap of her palm and fingers but also that of the deer’s fate as well.

In a slow state of mournful inattention, the deer began its obedient advance. As the helpless life walked slowly, the mother, in a taboo school of magic, took their life, the stolen essence flowing into her hand in a peaceful glow. With no hesitation, the father cut out pieces of the fallen prey and waved his hand to ignite the cooking flame underneath. And they consumed for over an hour in what felt like starvation, forsaking that of any civilized manners as they tore into the meat with their hands. Before no time at all, their fire had begun to extinguish, and soon all three would be taken by the darkened forest night; a complete and almost impossible blackness. As they sat in the struggling firelight, they made idle conversation of what the morning would bring, about what it was exactly that lead them to their current situation.

“I heard tell of natives that took residence in this woodland.” The father, in mindless thought, attempted to search for the colony. “Perhaps, they have found a peaceful health, instead of death in strange and feral causes.” What would be imagined as hours of wander, the couple indeed found unfortunate remains of abandoned shelters. The sad, time-forgotten corpses of these primal fashioned homes had been reclaimed by forest growth. “Now, silent as this village maybe, this is our opportunity for resting, beginning anew in this ended village.”

With the last of their magic made light fading into the nether, the mother resolved to agree and the father left no stone nor rotted wood unturned. Summoning forms from the aether, all would fashion livable conditions within the nearest abode, with no possible means of neglect. This newfound resolve of life possessed the two, they cast a series of smiles and joyous laughter, their hope vibrating outwards. Time turned the clock to days, the couple had comfortably found a place, happy in their discovery, they began to furnish their new home.

Quickly, the mother halted them both in the belief that their voices would draw unwanted visitors. In an almost immediate response, their attention was called to the rustle of a nearby hedge. Her snow-white eyes pierced him with such intensity that he knew she was right. Readying up for any hostility, the father called forth more specters from the aether, more formidable than the last; wraiths, banshees, and demons of haunting forms. The mother pivoted to the side, to protect the youngest she held and called forth her own phantoms which surrounded her. The approaching steps of crunching leaves and twigs grew louder. Was their deliverance to be so soon? Had their joyous cries brought forth a beast? Or had this creature been following their course, their scent through the labyrinth of trees for a time unknown?

While these notions grew in their thoughts, impatience grew more, renewing the resolve of the father. No sooner had the snout been revealed, the summoned phantoms of the father attacked in a blitzkrieg unrivaled. The loud pitched cry of the victim filled the air for only an instant before one of the demons held up the now dead medium-sized fauna. After a short pause, “Alas! We’ve found dinner.” The father said in laughter. With rolling eyes, the mother waved a hand, dismissing all summons, hers and his alike; the creature falling to the ground with a thud.

Nightfall brought on that familiar blackness, this time, their situation provided shelter. Inside the cottage renewed, they sat, the warmth provided by the fireplace, a conjured demon, stood alone on watch as they slept. The cries of the infant broke the silence of the forest. Awaking mother and father, he drew to his chest the child, in an attempt to soothe her into slumber. The cries persisted and in an attempt to calm her with the cold outside air, he wandered the close surroundings of the cottage, the absence of the guard he posted going unnoticed. Her young voice cried less and less but still rang through the branches overhead.

It was on the point of renewed cries that a loud snap of roots was heard. Rushing inside, he roused his wife, holding his finger to her lips. In an instant, her confusion turned to horror as they listened. Their strained ears, sharpened by fear, took in the sounds of a beast on the hunt. In quick strides, they fled from the cottage, the echoed sounds announced a dreadful understanding that this creature was not like those of any formidable opponent. Still, in vain hope, the father called forth two demons, attempting to change the hunt in their favor.

As the demons set out, the couple took their leave upwards into the trees. In the unearthly silence, not even the wind stirring, they waited. The tread of giant footfalls, a flurry of sharp cries, not that of a single crier, but two. The silence had then returned, broken only by soft and stealthy padded paws of something large.

They were sure it was the cries which aroused and brought forth this wild beast. This beast which possessed the ability to prove the better of two demons. Perhaps, they considered, the forest had chosen for them death instead of life. In their eyes, a determined sense of self-preservation, never fully lost, that stirred in their hearts could be seen. Determined to not part with their mortal coil, they commanded more champions of their own to fend off the forest champion approaching. Appropriately, the couple sat in the branches, quiet, the infant, ironically sound asleep.

The conjured phantoms spread out in search, and this very quiet atmosphere gave no hope that the beast would, without any guiding tracks to follow, lose its direction of the couple and simply go back to sleep. The sound of abnormal footfalls grew closer still, followed by shrieks of the defeated phantoms. It would seem, however, that this monster of the forest had caught their scent, drawing ever nearer in this cimmerian night.

In desperation, the father, with arms free of the infant, decided to call upon the aether once again; not for another fighter, but this time, a great winged raven. The magnificent spectral bird appeared from shadows, its back bare and welcoming to the couple as they climbed aboard. Seeing therefore that their armed defense towards this grounded beast failed in horrors left to the imagination, they attempted to flee by air, in the unseen darks of the treetops. What was taken as an escape, was soon stymied as the raven cried out in a loud shriek, moving towards the ground in an uncontrolled dive, its wings and head limp with unconsciousness.

Growing ever closer, the ground did not look so welcoming and in a great flash of black smoke, the raven burst out of existence. The couple, injured from the crash could barely stand and the father grouped together a collection of sharp rocks and sticks from the forest floor, in hopes to protect his family. The hideous footfalls of the padded paws drew near, each soft impact revealed a foreboding intent. Still unseen in the somber views, the smell enveloped all other senses; it became that of a million dead and rotting flesh around them.

As the stench grew stronger with every second, the void before them started taking a fearsome shape the size of boulders standing upon each other. Without words, the couple questioned what sort of species was to confront them, had this creature grown tired of venison and fox as its food? The father feebly clung to the sticks and stones, shaking, wrought in fear with the physical structure the shadows hinted at. Even should they live the night, the couple might never fully take in the form of this aggressor, as the forest light had long since left.

Any magic they might form, taken by strained nerves. The tension in the air, in their lungs, in their mind had become frightful, their disordered minds formed hideous, ghastly images of what this beast could be. With each moment, the beast neared, its footfalls snapping twigs as they made contact with the soil. The father gave an attempt to speak, but had only been sufficient enough to a cracked voice. The beast, still distant enough to be unseen, but near enough that yellow eyes were mistaken as fireflies. Petrified and unable to move, the father lifted the makeshift spear, shaking and doubtful to be properly used when the crucial moment was at hand.

The now rhythmic patter of feet and the unlabored breathing of the animal could be heard in the far-off space between. In contempt of the distance the beast must have traveled, the fights it had been in, the beast was not in the slightest way fatigued. Steeling himself, the father took aim, guided by instinct and hearing, loosing the spear toward the point in the darkness he best assumed the beast to be. He must have been close in aim, for they could hear a quick jump and landing some distance away.

They listened as the creature seemed to be uninjured and continued onward, at a faster pace this time. Having readjusted his aim, the father set out another spear. To his surprise, the weapon was deflected much closer than expected. The mother, regaining her resolve to live, brought upon this beast, an infernal mist, filled with the smell of death, equal to the one brought by the beast and cries of pain, unsure if from the mist itself or of the beast, shook the trees. Using this time to flee, the couple took off on foot, happening upon a river of moderate speed, they jumped in.

The beast, almost being overpowered by the mist emerged angry, bloody, and with its own resolve. Tracking the couple down once again, in no time at all, it arrived at the river. Moving swiftly along the riverbed, the snapping of twigs, the angry splash of rocks breaking the surface of the water, and the thundering of padded paws slamming into the soft ground overpowered both the moving water and cries of the child. In the darkness of the forest, the couple’s hope of escape was been abated. Desperate, the father once again called forth the aether and descending upon them as a winged savior, lifting them out of the water. Before anything had the chance of happening, a scorpion-like aculeus pierced the belly of the winged creation, sending the family harshly to the cusp of ground, on the opposite side of the river’s border from the beast.

Injured, in heavy breathing, and exceedingly exhausted, they realized that the beast had no more been injured than it had been angered. Their fear-stained minds barely caught the sound of infantile cries, breaking just enough their fear paralysis to stagger away. Morning light finally making way, but only to serve their nightmare. Erstwhile curiosities no longer plaguing their mind of what this vision of horror would look like, all imagination could not pair what the eyes took in, allied to superstition. Anger overtook their fear, anger at the situation, anger at the nearing end, they did not continue casting sticks and stones, their magic had left them, their extinction close at hand.

Yet, instead of accepting death forthright, adrenaline pushed them full speed away in a frenzied condition; away from the forest, away from the river, away from the beast. A sudden sound, rather, an earth-shattering quake with a succession of trembles caused their balance to fail. A sharp twist and cry of pain came from the father as his ankle turned to change its direction from the rest of the body. In one instant, they are running for safety, in another, now hobbled and suffering the prey-like situation yet again. A series of clicks, a swish as something cut through the air, the padded paws were closing in.

The baby cries and the father dies, the mother, struck in horror, witnesses the stinger which felled their flying steed, lodged deep in the father’s stomach. His feet leave the ground, his eyes struck in disbelief, and then a pleading, begging look overtaking his face. The clicking from the beast’s maw opening, the rotting corpse breath filling the air, the mother has had enough.

Setting the babe down against the backside of the nearby boulder and casting a void bubble around the child, she turns, facing the beast bleeding out her husband. In a series of hand gestures, she pulls out the remaining life force of her dying love, draining it in a collection of beautiful light. Filling the space amidst her palms she holds the essence, the last of it taken as the beast swallows him whole. Turning its attention to the mother before itself, she, in swift motion, not just pulls out her own life but sends it in reverse through the boulder. Mere seconds before the scorpion-like aculeus is buried deep in her skull, the venomous bulb resting atop her head.

The infant cries fade as the brilliant light of life is absorbed, putting the child to sleep. The bubble nullifies the sound, smell, and sight of the sleeping child. Unable to find her, or perhaps interest lost, the beast calls out its triumph and in an indomitable leap, is on the other side of the river.

The hours turn and the sun fades yet again. All the while, sleeping within the bubble, the child lay motionless, giving off a brilliant effulgence in a mixture of ethereal blue and sulfuric colors, unseen by the outside world. The diurnal course turns out three times, before the bubble abates to nothing, revealing a child, no longer infantile but that of five years. Covered in nothing more than her own long, obsidian hair and skin resembling smoke in color with eyes of snow like that of her mother. Despite the forest sounds, all she can hear is a voice, belonging to a familiar presence “Don’t be afraid my love. Our hearts beat alongside yours. I’m sorry we could not give to you the life we had wished.” The voice fades and imparts upon her a sharp pain deep in her mind, giving the knowledge to speak and walk. As the voice fully fades, the sound of the river draws her attention.

She ran to meet the water, stricken still by the site of a critter-found corpse before her. A woman, with eyes of snow, hair, and face stained with dried blood from the top of her head. Instinctively, the child knew this to be her mother, and a tear fell upon the lifeless cheek. Dwelling here for mere moments the child presses onwards to the water, submerging herself. Feeling the cool temperature take her warmth, the water rushing over her eyes. The brisk evening air bites at her skin as she stands back up. Re-birthed into the world, she is called towards where she first awoke.

She feels more than just the earth against her bare feet. An awareness of the life around her, an exciting connection to the trees, the forest life, with closed eyes her senses tingle, each nerve stimulated, pure life flows through her. Then, an ominous, vile, and corrupt presence overtakes her. It grows stronger, hate fills her every nerve. The beast has returned.

In an instant of seeing this heinous life-force, there was no doubt, this creature is the reason she is alone. Transfixed, eyes locked in glaring tension, this child is frozen in place. Unlike that of her departed parents, her frozen state is that of a loathing need for revenge, not fear. The beast lunges its stinger at her, piercing her shoulder. Unmoved, perhaps even unnoticed, the child keeps their eyes locked. Insulted, the beast throws her to a wall of trees, nearly off a cliff, scraping and busing her in joyous animosity, as if playing with its next meal. Standing, the pain again goes unnoticed, she advances slowly towards the beast. Eyes unblinking, her stare is as venomous as the beast’s stinger. Insulted further, it swipes its razor claws, shredding her arm. It is then she shouts, yells, and screams in exalted rage. A wind stirs, lifting her hair, the fur of the beast, twigs, and leaves. The pure sense of magic and a manic desire to kill emanates from this young girl. For once, the beast is the one paralyzed by fear.

A heartbeat pounds in her ears, fear not of her own fills her mind and a life force runs within her veins. This feeling of power drowns out the intruding fear, she leans into it, following the path directed from the dominance. Slowly the vile feeling, the anger, and hate overcome her. The yellow eyes of the beast go wide, the tooth-filled maw opens, the tail falls to the ground. A black and muddy golden light flows from the beast and surrounds the girl. Seconds is all it took, seconds that felt like a lifetime, and in a final burst of power, the beast falls to the ground dead, the girl’s wounds are healed. With the final force given from the burst power, she is vaulted in a backward arch above the approaching cliff’s edge. Still flowing with stolen life, she is saved from death when the 15-meter drop ends.

The night passes in full and the breaking sun shines down on the unconscious naked child. Unbruised, unscratched, and unbloodied this person of merely five rested upon the ground at the base of the cliff. The road along the side is frequented by traveling traders and guides. It was not long until one such trader halted his horse-drawn storehouse, embracing his feet in boots and quickly running to the child’s aid.

Bewilderment took him as he could not make sense of the child, laying unclothed and in a cloud of smoke. As quickly as he ran to her, he left, returning with a rose-colored blanket to cover her. It took minutes for her to awake to something near normal consciousness and the smoke receding into her.

“Please my dear, come to my carriage. I’ll see to it we find your parents.” The man said, attempting to guide her to her feet. In a mournful look, she pressed her chin to her chest, and tears making way to the ground. Overwhelming the newcomer with meaningless apologies, he leads her to the seat next to his.

“Please stay here, I’ll return shortly.” He left her sitting alone, wrapped in the blanket. Entering the back of his storehouse he fumbled amongst pots and pans, glassware, and crates of goods. Returning to her with a cup of hot chocolate infused with peppermint and fresh clothes. “This will help calm your nerves little one.” He hands over the cup and imitates himself drinking it. Her eyes bulge at the flavors and gulp down in a few drinks, the rest of the cup. The young man smiles and then helps her dress, lastly instructing his horses to press onwards.

Proceeding through the dirt road, they greet passersby and speaking little, wholly on his part. Telling her they are almost to town, that he has business there and will book a room at the inn for her while he works.

Within the time it took to reach town, she became accustomed to his company and had started to tell of the heinous beast, but not upon killing it or waking alone in the forest. According to her new companion, she must have imagined the beast altogether, a trickery of shadows in the dark. Informing her the beast she recalled was a legend and nothing more, a beast that took on the pleasure of killing and was once the familiar to a vile wizard. Of all the unnatural monsters that lurked in the forest, that was one that simply couldn’t be.

Cautiously avoiding wandering eyes, he took her to the inn and purchased a room. “I’ll have some clothes sent up for you shortly, if you wait for me to finish my work for the day, I’ll take you for some food.” With a feeble nod, the child sat on the bed. “I’m going to lock the door, but on the desk here,” the man strode next to a nightstand adjacent to a window, “this is the key, so you may leave if you wish, but I do not advise it.” He left the room, locking it behind him.

Adjusting herself under the covers of the bed, she felt the satin sheets on her bare skin, and for the first time in which she could remember, her eyes grew heavy with exhaustion. Her respiration had now become slow and eyes drawn over when a sudden sound resonated in her mind. It was of a nature difficult to place, it could have been the wind passing by as she fell from the cliff, the ringing as she stole the life from the beast, or that of her parent’s life force filling her. It was not of any commonplace sound, but the child could not question the beginnings or purpose of it as the sound was gone nearly as soon as it had started. Silence filled the room now, broken here and there by the chirping of birds and chattering of people on the street below her window.

All at once the energy she had felt until now, left her body in a fleeting spasm from her breast. She drifted to sleep, dreaming of a man’s face struck with horror, a woman’s face she knew to be her mother’s, twisted in anger, and horrible yellow eyes, deep with hate and a crazed sense of joy. Her mother and father, their hair and flesh clinging in sweat, she saw that they were in a state of hopelessness, in a pit of black. As she looked more closely she saw that a shining light grew from their bodies, blinding and pushing out the decrepitness of the beast. As she sat, gazing upon the sight, the thick jaws opened, and several sights smells and sounds issued outwards. Afterward, the beast’s eyes faded of their light, the body tensing up in death. Her parents embraced her at her arms and took a feeling of hope, of life. They made no motion but stood still, seeing the love-fixed eyes of her parents for the first time. Fear left, and in its wake was wonder, awe, and a certain feeling of joy filled her. The sounds of content and prideful sighs left them and their bodies relaxed in peaceful death. Though alone, she knew she was loved, and the last gift her parents had for her as she woke from the dream, was her name; Valna.