Lord of the forest

The lord of the forest

A long, long time ago in a dense forest, there was a little boy living in it. The boy sat in the nook of a large tree casting shade all over his sheltered body, but as the sun made its way through its leaves-now golden yellow and bedazzling orange in the autumn air-you could take a good look at the boy who lay calmly on the bed of soft grass. looking a bit deeper, you could right away make out his most striking feature- his eyes, which were large doe-like orbs shimmering with innocence and depth, like samples of the inside forest, as soft and enlightening as the truly ancient and ripe secrets of the trees that are old with experience and tales as yet unweaved. The mesmerizing allure, it pulled others to it like a silent forest pool. He had a lean body that moved with a grace as fluid as the gait of woodland creatures, some of whose brother he claimed to be. His hair, like the hue of autumn leaves dappled in the sun, fell about his shoulders in wild waves, sprigged with fern and wildflowers, which were woven into intricate braids. His clothes had been made from the finest elements of the forest-soft mosses, supple vines, and leaves-all in every hue to create a cloak of green beauty that seemed to blend without a hitch into the woodland tapestry, flowed down onto the luscious grass, that seemed to stretch indefinitely around him, making it seem his cloak wrapped around the whole forest.

The boy, answering some subconscious command, started to get up from his position of safety under the large tree on this brisk autumn afternoon and began to gallop like a deer into the vast tree line. His thin figure, agile and russet, weaved effortlessly into the dense undergrowth with every leap into motion in the forest. Every stride took him deeper into the heart of the woods; earth, soft and yielding, beneath his hooves.

His long strides, eating up the ground as he weaved in and out of the ancient trees, were filled with anticipation; for ahead he knew was to await his destination-a tranquil lake nestled amidst the emerald embrace of the forest. He was to rendezvous there by the shimmering waters with his advisor-the majestic Elk, a creature of wisdom and grace, hiding in the shadows, yet Responsibility and power in an air about it to whoever chanced on the animal.

With a streak of swiftness, from the lurid green canopy, came the Deer Boy, exploding into the serene expanse of the lake sprawled ahead. On its edge under the shade of a towering oak sat the Elk, his huge antlers reaching towards heaven like the branches of a living cathedral, his muscles yet showing through its thin layer of fur, his chocolate brown eyes seeming to pierce into his very soul.

With a soft whinny of greeting, the Deer Boy started forward, his doe eyes fixed on the elk, slowly sat down, and eased into his side. The Elk turned his gaze on the Deer Boy, a smile playing upon lips. "Good morrow, young lord," said the Elk, his voice as smooth as the ripples of that small lake. His voice seemed to assuage the wind, for it only rustled slightly at the leaves and troubled the water. "Good morrow, Galen," returned the Deer Boy, his doe eyes alight with eager. I have waited for your coming," he said, his face filled with a broad, knowing smile. "There is much to speak of, concerning the Forrest you oversee, my lord."

The Boy listened intently as his advisor began to talk. "Under your watchful eye, young lord," he began, "this forest is lush. Trees pass uninjured, upright, and tall; their boughs stretch to the sky in mute salutation. Good health characterizes the creatures of the woods-and their homes are interwoven into the very fabric that makes a forest. The rivers run clear and pure, their waters lifelines to all who inhabit these sacred woods."

As the Elk spoke, a feeling of pride and relief swelled within the Deer Boy's heart, knowing that under his stewardship the forest was in full bloom, for he had only held the title of Lord of Nature for 6 months-the previous lord, the mother tree, having withered away after millions of years of service to the forest. Though he felt good about it, having protected the forest, there is something else at another level that gleams, worrying the soul, tinting those bottomless fawn eyes.

"However," the Elk continued, his voice grave, "at the east border of the forest, there are whispers of darkness stirring." Galen shook his mighty head-lightly knocking his ears with his antlers-as he continued gazing into the boy's eyes. "The balance of the forest is delicate, young lord, and we must remain vigilant against those who would seek to disrupt it." Both boy and elk knew whom he was talking about: for thousands of years, to the east side of the forest, sat a small village full of hunters who rumor had told of the magic that the forest held, who had always tried to attack the creatures in the forest, causing mass panic that the lord and Galen would have to sort out.

The Deer Boy nodded gravely, his mind racing with thoughts of the trials to come not just for himself but also his advisor. But even as the thickets of uncertainty obscured the horizon, he took comfort in the wisdom of his mentor and the rapport they shared.

Under the rustling leaves and lapping of the lake, the Deer Boy and the Elk vowed to stand for the protection of their forest home, as steadfast as the old trees. And so, before the quiet stretch of the forest, they felt that with bravery, understanding, and oneness, they would surmount whatever might come ahead to test them, thus keeping alive the magic of woods a millennium longer.