You Can Run

Yaan Toor

After Esmaael had demonstrated the basics of sword fighting, he ordered Pierre to practise each drill ten times. Pierre realised it was actually a lot harder to wield a sword than he'd seen on his travels, and he couldn't help but feel disheartened about that. If he was already so pathetic at just wielding a sword, how could he defend them against the djinn? Esmaael tried to make him feel better, by reminding him that practice makes perfect, but as they moved on to the next drill, a sense of dread nestled itself into Pierre's stomach.

"Where's Abru?" he asked, looking around at the clearing. The trees to their east and south were thick and dense, filtering little to no light, and to their north, an abandoned hut fell into decay. Esmaael paled, licking his lips.

"There," he muttered, a trembling finger pointing at the tall palms. They somehow seemed malevolent, twisted and dark, with long leaves drooping low towards the ground. Pierre did not like how Esmaael's voice was edged with tension. He decided to walk towards it, right as Esmaael grabbed his arm.

"Wait," he pleaded, releasing a shaky sigh. "Don't go in there alone. Let's get some help."

"It's just a forest. And what if we're too late?" Pierre responded, hands raised in exasperation.

"It isn't 'just a forest'!" Esmaael sputtered. "That's Yaan Toor. The Dark Forest. It's one of the djinns' tactics to keep us from leaving the village. Sometimes, the djinns lure kids there for fun, usually kids old enough to understand fear and despair, they show them their worst memories, most vivid fears and when they're found, they're not the same."

Pierre sighed. He could understand Esmaael's concerns. But he didn't want to wait either. He pulled his hand back. "I'm going." he asserted. "You can go get help if you'd like, but don't expect me to wait for them." He began walking towards the forest, forcing his racing heart to settle. He told himself that the forest wasn't a threat, that it was just the irrational worries of an islander.

Liar, his heart told his brain.

Shut it. His brain retorted.

With each step, he forced himself forward, until he heard a sigh behind him. "Wait," Esmaael stopped him. "Wallah, I'm coming with you."

Pierre's heart lightened, the fear instantly vanishing. He made sure to not let his relief show and continued walking, slowing his pace as Esmaael followed him. As the pair walked into the forest, Pierre noticed the sudden drop in temperature, and the smell of rotting flesh as soon as they walked into the forest, making it seem as if they were miles away from the homely little village, although with just a turn and a few steps, they could, theoretically, find themselves back.

"We're lost," Esmaael said, in a tone that suggested he was confirming the statement, rather than noticing it. His lack of surprise didn't sit right with Pierre, and he couldn't help but curse the stupid child for wandering into such a sinister place.

Where are you, Abru?

They continued further, occasionally tripping over a twisted branch. Pierre could hear the telltale hisss of a snake nearby and Esmaael warned him to keep away from the trees. He could hear a rattlesnake nearby as well as screeching, from something Pierre hoped was a harmless bird. As they traversed deeper into the forest, the light grew dimmer, and soon Pierre was struggling to see in front of him. Something snagged his foot, sending him tumbling to the ground. He could feel a sharp, burning sensation above his ankle, and he begrudgingly realised he was hurt. Cursing, he felt the wound, as Esmaael moved towards him.

"Are you hurt?" He asked, crouching onto the ground. "Here, let me see." Pierre could vaguely make out Esmaael tearing the fabric of his thobe, the rip echoing through the malevolent silence. "Where is it?" Esmaael asked, just as they heard rustling from behind them.

They no longer had to struggle to see in the dark, but Pierre wished they did. He did not want to see the glowing monstrosity in front of him, hastily making its way towards him, drooling and gasping. The creature was a cross between an alligator and a lizard; blue glowing stripes illuminating its back, tail and snout. Small beady eyes glistened on either side of its snout, and a long forked tongue whipped in the air. It stomped on four stubby legs, its speed unnaturally fast and Pierre found himself paralysed with fear, as Esmaael dragged him away from the beast. They hid behind a large tree, and Esmaael got to work on Pierre's wound.

"That," he panted, wrapping the cotton fabric onto Pierre's wound, "is a Glow Lizard. It loves the smell of human flesh, and one bite could render you dead in fifteen seconds."

Pierre got up, with Esmaael's support, and they could hear the lizard close behind them. They walked fast, or as fast as Pierre could limp, until they came across someone. Pierre could hear Esmaael whisper beside him, and as the person grew closer, Pierre realised it wasn't a person at all.