The Forest

Jule

They both stood there and watched as the mysterious glow cascaded around the rocks before them.  And out of the wreck of light left in their presence, illuminated words began to form in the air again.  Vardatia prowled around, dragging her lifeless vines on the ground and growling under her breath.  Weapons of unknown certainty, the nemesis of her worth, toiled with her mind and  anticipation was threatening a curse of eternity.  

"Jack," a soft whisper stirred out of the air.  "Jack, can you see me?"  his friend spoke again.  

The light silenced and an aura formed around his friend carefully peeking out from behind the pile of rocks.  Jack's arm was growing weak from the weight of the vine he had been given, doubting any good could come from it.  Vardatia walked closer to the light, observing the animal, warning him of the powers that lie on the edge of the shadows.

"Yes, I can see you," Jack said.  "Now please come out from where you are.  Come with me.  Please, let's go, I'm afraid these words are going to harm you."

"Do you see them too?" he spoke.

Jack could see the letters as they ascended up circling around them, then scattering into fragments of words in a perplexing display of confusion.   He was careful as Vardatia now lay dormant, still next to the rock, watching Jack's every move.

"I can see letters and symbols and words all mixed up making a mess that doesn't make any sense at all.  Now come on, let's go, hurry up."

"Jack, wait...please.  The words, they hold a secret.  They hold a secret and a dream. The stick you are holding gave you powers, he said with conviction.  Raise it up. Lift it up high to the sky and see what happens next."

"Nonsense!"  Vardatia demanded. "You have stolen MY power.  Now give it back," she said commanding her vines to capture the orphaned letters she lost.  

She grabbed on to the stick with one of her surly vines, but the stick would not release from Jack's hand.  The worthless piece of nothing she gave him was now the object of her obsession. Jack tumbled backward and fell to the ground.  Vardatia cursed and spat at his feet.  And in a violent effort of waste, she spoke.

"There is no such secret that you can speak of and there is no such dream that you will ever find.  You see, this is part of the curse that I gave to you and whomever touches the stick in your hand will be forever lost. This mild intoxication of hope you think you might have found will vanish with the powerless attempts you make to survive in this forest."

Without hesitation, Jack deliberately raised up the frayed stick, still stuck to his palm, and waited while three minds wondered in opposition what would happen next.   Jack could feel the remains of bitterness hanging in the air and the scent of demise on his skin.  A sign that gave him hope his friend was right.   His arm was strong with conscience.  His mind was alive with will.  In his possession, he now believed held a promise.  The promise of an unfound certainty.  The promise that only comes with thoughtful intentions, deliberate choices and belief in the possible that one day he would find his way back home. 

His arm wildly demonstrated its strength, flourishing in the air around them.  His friend now by his side.  They watched in amazement as the descent of glowing letters began to clutter  together, merging into a brilliant flash of energy that sent them whirling with streaming intent back inside the stick.  This once lifeless vine he was given was transformed into a spike of courage that emanated a fierce consequence of good vs. evil.  Jack looked down at his friend with a reflection of determination.  Together, they knew they would find the secret, the promise and the dream.  

Vardatia, and her fabric of roots, projected a haunting reality of the cunning deceit possible in a forest where existence relies on a savory appetite for power.   With barely a cell of life left in her wilted structure, the forest floor erupted, growling and absorbing her scathed vines, directing them back to the place where the beauty once prevailed.  And the forest echoed the last words of her demise.

In a weak gasp, she spoke, "You are foiled by your steps and blinded by your cause.  The only vine, alive now with my promise, is the one you are holding.  The truth be told and a silence kept, inside a cell of fate, will unfold your bitter end," she glared at them with a rapture of punishment that mocked them.  

But the forest whispered back in anger, "A being, known only for lies, can never live a truth to tell."  

Suddenly, the vine in Jack's hand lit up in excitement and the roots beneath the earth exploded like sprigs of lightning galvanizing the midnight sky.  Bright shadows sent out signals of light in every direction as their eyes reflected a landscape of tiny vessels they knew they could use to find their way.  As this tapestry came alive under their feet, the roots, weaving uncharted paths, found a way back to their source amongst the forest of trees.  Jack reached in his pocket for his stone.  It was still safe and warm inside.  

"I will call you Jule," he said, looking down at his friend next to him.

"Jule. I like it," his eyes gazed up at Jack with a contentment of assurance.  But why do you call me Jule?" 

Because you are a crown for many, but a jewel meant only for one.  

These words he spoke wandered through a memory of lifetimes ago it seemed. It was a familiar voice inside that knew him. And the undeniable conscious now alive at his feet revealed to him an undiscovered world he knew he had yet to find. It would be right and it would be wrong, it would be certain and it would doubt, it would be strong and it would show weakness, it would find hope and it would slip away. But in the end, it would be an inseparable bond, incapable of surviving alone.