Until Forever (1st draft)

Part the Twenty-Third

As impossible as it seemed, the solitary spider web continued on through the forest, connected from tree to tree along the path, leading her in the correct direction at every fork. No matter where she walked in relation to the web, the sunlight always seemed to find it, creating a gleaming beacon impossible to lose sight of along the way. Her pace was quick, sometimes even jogging, and the urgency of her journey kept her from tiring. It didn't matter whether that urgency was borne from guilt over her treatment of Steekbunk or the unsettling incident that had rattled Cloya the Spinner, Geneva knew only that she must get back to the strange treehouse as soon as possible. She would put on the Fairie Tail Ring and break the curse so that Steekbunk would be able to tell her everything he had been prevented from sharing. Then she would return to Ingar and explain it all to Nellaf. For once she had a plan.

The forest didn't seem the same on the way back, though at first she couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was that struck her as different. Then she realized it was the silence. The chattering birds and unfamiliar animal noises had been hushed. There was no movement in the brush, no flapping of wings in the sky above, no buzzing of persistently annoying insects. The contrast from her previous trips through these woods was significant. It was as if all life had left.

She paused for a moment, waiting and listening. Surely something would eventually move or vocalize its presence. But it never happened. The eerie silence lingered, causing a nervous tingle to creep up her spine. Geneva resumed her jog, hearing only her own crunching footfalls beneath her. She kept this pace until the world suddenly turned gray, and then she stopped again.

The only sound was her catching her breath as she scanned her surroundings. Every plant of every size...every leaf on every branch...every trunk of every tree...had turned to a shade of gray. All of the flowers in the area had also turned gray, but the petals had dropped to the forest floor. Even the gray leaves were beginning to drop, fluttering down around her like tatters of an old wool blanket. Straight ahead Geneva recognized the massive tree that held Steekbunk Lowbone's home. It had already lost all of its foliage, transformed into an ominous dark gray skeleton. The sun blazed down through the new opening like a tidal wave of light bursting through a broken dam.

She looked back at the trail behind and it still retained all of its natural color. If she squinted and looked ahead beyond the great tree she could see that the color resumed on the other side. But in one large circular area all color had been drained from the forest, and from the looks of it all life had too. Steekbunk's home tree seemed to be right in the center of the void. Geneva knew immediately that something was very, very wrong.

Her stomach quivered with anxiety as she slowly approached the tree. What had happened? What possible explanation was there for this abnormal occurrence? Her steps were cautious as she entered the surreal scene of a black and white movie, worried about the consequences of simply touching the gray ground. But as she got close to the tree her eyes were blinded by a kaleidoscope of illuminated colors; a rainbow of laser lights so bright they seemed unnatural. She squinted and framed her eyes with her flattened hands in an effort to reduce the glare.

The colored beams of light seemed to originate on the ground, lancing upwards into the sky. As she walked amid the radiance she realized that it was being created by Steekbunk's starlight crystals, scattered all over the landscape, reflecting the bright sunlight. The sight was breathtakingly beautiful, a work of modern art that her mother would have treasured. But why were his gemstones on the ground?

She tripped over something with a jagged edge. Peering through the haze of color she realized it was half of the ceramic fire bowl from Steekbunk's home. In fact, as her eyes struggled to adjust she realized that there was debris all over the place. It was the wreckage of the treehouse. Something had happened to Steekbunk's home!

She took another step and froze in horror. A misshapen wet heap was on the ground up in front of her. Her brain couldn't register what it was but a strange dizziness came over her, urging her to turn around and run away. Transfixed, she moved closer and realized the rounded shape was open on top. Something protruded out of it. Moving even closer, the object came into full view and recognition.

It was Steekbunk! It was his egg-shaped body, split open and bleeding, with his broken ribcage jutting out of the gaping cavity like the damaged infrastructure of a dilapidated building. Intestines and organs hung over the shredded fleshy edges of the wound, and the rhythmic sound of the blood dripping off them seemed amplified in the total silence.

Something had torn him open and emptied him out!

His huge eyes were locked open, rolled upwards in a permanent anguished stare at the bloody crater in his forehead where the menacing barbed horn had once been anchored. Now it was gone, hacked off by whatever was responsible for this atrocious massacre.

Geneva fell to her knees, lightheaded, then her stomach wretched and emptied. Gagging and gasping, she crawled away from the horrific scene. Eventually she had crawled all the way out of the grayness and stumbled to her feet, running back toward the natural full color of the woods. She had no awareness of her surroundings, her vision obscured by the tears that streamed from her eyes, her gleaming spider web lifeline completely forgotten. She crashed through the woods, unknowingly distancing herself from the well-worn path. Branches tore at her face and snagged her hair, but she was numb to the pain. All she felt was the horrible tightness in her chest and the clenching ache in her stomach.

Her shoulder collided with a tree, spinning her wildly and causing her to tumble over a rock. Her head struck the ground hard and that was enough to emotionally overwhelm her. Her crying became sobbing, her sobbing became screaming, and she lay face first in the dirt clutching fistfuls of vegetation as her body was wracked with despair.

Somehow she staggered back to her feet, hyperventilating but moving forward on autopilot, trying desperately to get away from a heart-wrenching pain that she could never escape. She emerged from the dense brush into a clearing where a small, stagnant body of water welcomed her. She had come full circle. Perhaps this was her destiny.

She stood at the edge of the murky water, swaying as she cried and gasped and choked. Now she knew why Steekbunk had been collecting the beautiful gemstones. He had been aware all along that he was going to die, and apparently he had been aware of how it was going to happen, so he had prepared a memorable tribute to himself! Knowing that his home would be destroyed, he had ensured that the ugly remains of his brutal death would be surrounded with unforgettable beauty beyond description.

Geneva leaned forward and let her body collapse into the swampy depths, her thoughts fixated on the tormenting words of Steekbunk Lowbone as she sunk: "I will die because of you."