In a daring rescue, he plunged off the mountain top between two monsters that no longer existed. Their words crumbled to stone and bled an angry core of evil behind him. As the rails under his feet lifted off from the edge, he spun around to watch time rewind, turning forward to face the world again without them at his back. And now from the top, only one view remained.
He carved his way through deep snow under the chase from above that never left his sight. It watched him soar through gullies and rise above moguls. It spoke in his tracks and made shadows envy its source. It shined through winks of scars, never losing the touch of a hand that once let it go. The bond of security between them would be exposed in time. And with one delicate command from the heart, Jack willfully followed.
He wove uneven patterns of waves across drifts juggling depth from side to side on the steep mountainside. And the course, tedious at times, quickly emerged out of chaos at every turn, avoiding the threats of solitude. He dove off heights and lingered in trenches flushed with resolve. And they followed. Down the same route as he, an avalanche of molten rock and rage gaining speed in a reckless pursuit of victory. It shouted to him. It taunted him. It beat him. And he ignored. They tangled together like puppet strings strangled by their own breath. And he thought faster. Its presence escaped his mind, all but one glimpse it stole from him and then spoke in haste.
"My pathetic indulgence of solitude has no doubt given rise to your substance. And you have interrupted my plan. Do you see now that I have devoured your interest and grow stronger even still with your attention?"
His escape from above left towering giants festering in rubble cascading down alongside of him. And in the narrow chutes before him, they quickly littered their way with displaced rock and ice in an undermining attempt of sabotage. But the two threads he left behind him never abandoned their lead and never questioned their way. They lacked a sinister periphery attached to the ego below, leaving a blank canvas ahead of him to own.
He raced faster and faster through the angst of defeat then stalled abruptly to admire restraint. It handed him a broken wing from a tired flight of humility. It showed up perfectly, just when he knew it would be there, and rested its beak on the glory of the view he taught. A flaunt of pain blinked once from his quiet eyes behind his crown of wisdom, but Jack hesitated to meet its stare. His leathery talons grasped tighter to a reason, etching questions out of doubt on a tree branch under his grip. He stretched his head high for a moment of pride under the tall of the pines above and bowed his head back to his feathery core, under a wing and flight of surrender. Then he was still.
Jack, provoked by an unmistakable quest to know, planted his sticks firmly beside him in the snow just as a voice swarmed around them, gathering strength in the wind. Their presence alone dared an answer.
"And now you see, your willful authority over a choice has granted your success."
Its breath, thick with conviction, fogged the air between them and his heart began racing with another reason to follow.
"The lines you make on this trail will greet you again someday. They will remind you of all you left on the mountain before you. And one day, they will gratefully reciprocate your sacrifice."
A humble indulgence absorbed every word, as if it already knew, and Jack stood mesmerized while another brushstroke of wisdom circled before them in a swirling vortex of context. His two sticks began to shudder, melting the snow at its tips. He lifted one, still glowing with clarity, then the other raised up pointing toward the gust of words.
"It flaps its wings just enough to let you know it is there. Then it is still. It blends into the landscape. The earth, the leaves, the twigs disguise its colors, but its vibrance remains."
He searched for the branch and the grip with a reason above him. Its reach left behind a silhouette, tucked inside blankets of pine nesting quietly behind the haze between them. Jack approached, closer to the wound he could feel, and knelt down near the base of the tree, rustling through the worth of its fruit. And there, amongst the bark, sprigs and pine cones, a delicate feather boldly surfaced. Its stem planted firmly in the center of foliage and debris lining the snow. Its touch was a gentle understanding. Its spine made of strength to listen. Its flesh, a sword in the fight.
Jack stood there staring up at the statue as a trickle of warmth fell from his cheek and words, formed from doubt, reigned proudly inside of him.
"Exist in failure, and you will never fail. Worship success, and it will enslave you. Honor your gifts, and the reward will be yours."
YOU ARE READING
The Forest
FantasyA little boy finds himself trapped in a dream that leads him through a forest of fear, confusion and uncertainty. Along the way, he meets the weak and flawed mysteries of its hosts who live there. He learns to navigate his way through the forest and...
