𝕎ℝ𝕀𝕋𝔼𝕋𝕆𝔹𝔼ℝ 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟛

PATH

There were many rules in your small village. A plethora that spelled life or death for anyone who resided there. Some were normal. No business may operate past sundown. After the moon rises, curfew has begun and no one is allowed out until the sunrise the next morning.

But some of the rules were harder to follow. For example the Feeding and the Paths. Your village lay in the middle of a dense endless forest. No one had ever seen the other side, due to the path rule. The rule was as follows 'when in the forest you must always stay on the path. No matter what you see or hear, the path is the only guarantee of safety. Do not leave it for any reason.'

Few people ever needed to use the forest paths but that was where the Feeding came in. Whenever someone turned 18 they would be sent down one of the paths with a basket full of offerings for the forest gods. If they succeeded they would come back. No one talked about those that failed, baskets found torn at the edge of the paths afterwards. 

None of your siblings had failed. Your brother went first but came back happily, basket left for the gods. He was blessed with a beautiful wife and children. Your sister had gone next and she was granted a faithful husband.

But you? You didn't want a spouse and kids. You just wanted to be alone and work on your hobbies, at least for a little. It was a common practice for parents to marry off those that succeeded quickly.

You straightened your outfit and strode down the path, basket in hand. You were hungry, your parents had put the best of your food into the basket as offerings so you'd gone without breakfast. But, you wouldn't dare touch it. One of the rules was that once something was placed as an offering it was rude to take it back without offering something of greater value. You had nothing else. 

It was a nice day. The sun shone through the trees along the path, creating speckles of light on the ground. Leaves littered the sides of the path, following the invisible border of safety, but the path itself was spotless. It was quiet and normal, just like any of the other paths inside of the village. 

That was, until you heard it. It was a voice, it seemed to come from the wind and the trees, surrounding you. It was singing and you felt it was directed especially towards yourself.

When the spring first came
My daffodils grew green
Then dry hot summer came
And stole them quick and clean
When spring should next reveal
More daffodils for me
I'll keep them close
Never let them go
Save them from Summer's sting

It was enchanting, the voice. But you righted your feet and continued on the path. You had to continue forward. But the voice wasn't giving up. In fact it seemed to get more desperate as you ignored it.

Autumn steals away my leaves
Winter leaves me bare
Spring brings back my daffodils
Summer dries and tears
But when the summer tries to steal my daffodils away
I'll scoop them up and keep them safe
From Summer's deadly ray

The voice was getting harder to ignore, more hypnotic. By the time you snapped yourself out of it you were right in front of the leaf barrier, about to cross it. You'd stumbled back into the middle of the path before hurrying on your way. You were determined to get this over with. You had to make it to the end of this stupid path at some point.

Spring brings to me warm rains
To help the earth succeed
From each and every violet
To ferns and grasses green
But Spring brings back the one thing
I'll save from Summer's day
My sweet and yellow daffodil
Will join me here today

It was too late by the time you realized it. You'd reached the end of the path and stepped off of it. When you attempted to stumble back on, dropping the basket, it was like pounding on an invisible wall. There was nothing you could do.

"Why so sad sweet daffodil?" You whipped around, scanning the trees frantically. Who was it? Who was calling to you? 

"It pains me to see you worry so. Nothing bad will happen to you here. As long as you follow my new rule, never leave me alone, okay?"