The Land of Gods and Beasts

Chapter 8

Esther

My feet pounded into the moss as I ran as fast as I could. I didn't know where I was going, didn't care. Mallok had been right, the Wistle at night was a thing of nightmares and dreams. Screams and howls echoed throughout the forest, shadows curling around trees in the shapes of massive beasts. There were many times when I caught shapes running near me from the corner of my eye, thankfully they eventually gave up the chase. The glowing flora highlighted massive glowing slitted eyes, or claws and fangs as long as my arm. Glowing little creatures with wings flitted amongst the trees, some even giving me a little wave. They danced floating in the air, to a lilting melody that mixed with the sounds of roaring beasts and screaming prey. The combined sounds somehow an orchestra of totally contradictory and complimentary. A petrifying mix of false security and blatant atrocities.

I don't know how long I ran before my strength finally ran out. From what I could glimpse through the thick canopy overhead, the moons had only crossed halfway across the sky. I was so weak, my body completely unused to such a demanding task as running.

Desperate for a safe place to rest, I found a massive tree with an arching hole near the bottom in the semblance of a door. I warily peeked my head into the hole and screeched when a black scaly thing jumped on my face. I jerked back, both of us shrieking as I tried to tear the thing's claws from my face and hair. I finally managed to rip it off, dropping it before kicking it so hard it disappeared in the night.

Chest heaving, I gingerly touched my stinging face. My face was a massacre of shallow sticky scratches, but thankfully nothing too deep.

I ducked into the now unoccupied tree, exhaustion sending me collapsing to the ground. The inside of the tree was absolutely massive. More than tall enough for me to stand, and wide enough that I could lay completely spread out and still have feet of extra space on all sides of me. It was dark and cold, but the entrance was small enough that nothing massive could get inside at least.

I curled up on my side, body aching, and quickly fell into sleep.

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I spent most of the next day constantly checking over my shoulder. Though I knew I had a head start and Mallok's leg was injured, I had no doubt he could catch up to me. Hunt me.

The thought haunted me as I sluggishly made my way through the Wistle, stomach growling. I walked as long as I could ignore my stomach, but eventually my body demanded food with cramps in my stomach and a nauseating headache. I plopped down next to a stream, resting my back against a tree. I removed my pack and pulled out a jar of soup, cursing myself for not grabbing utensils or water. I ate with my hands, the soup bland but filling. By the time I was finished my throat burned with thirst. I eyed the stream next to me warily, warnings of Selkies ringing through my head. I wanted to wash my hands of the sticky soup but wiped them on the mossy ground instead. I stood, wracking my brain for a way to get water without getting near the tempting sparkling pool.

Minutes later I had a long stick with a vine holding the jar to the end of it. The vine had hissed and whimpered pitifully as I cut it from a tree, but my need for water was much more pressing than having a bleeding heart for a damned plant. I dipped it into the water a couple of times to rinse and fill it, then greedily chugged it and refilled it again, putting the lid back on and stuffing it in my bag. It wasn't much water, but thankfully the Wistle was filled with streams to refill it with later.

I took my stick with me, not willing to leave any hint of a trail for Mallok to follow.

The forest was truly beautiful, and truly endless.

I spent days walking, nights crawling into whatever tree, cave, or hole I could find to rest, falling asleep to the screams and roars that filled the forest. And though every night I fell asleep with the hopes of a silver eyed dark male finding me, he never did.