Wandering Tales

Child Of The Forest

The black forest shuddered, sensing an unknown and innocent being had just entered its massive body. Leaves rustled in slight fear, the grass shuffling uncomfortably. It waited in bated silence for the unfortunate but inevitable outcome.

"Hello?" The young hazel haired girl named Bronwyn hesitantly called, pushing aside an oversize palm leaf. Her flower dress jerked as it caught on a twig, and there was a rip-ing sound.

"Oh no..." She bent down and grabbed both sides of the torn fabric. Hurrying, she ran in the directions the trees were pointing. The plants stared at this human curiosity, and some felt anger rising. Though the young girl did not see, several stretched their wooden limbs to block her path. It took here some time to get around them. There was a rancid scent to the air, plunging her nose into a wrinkling fit.

"Hello?" She called again. Rumors the villagers had whispered amongst themselves whilst going about their daily lives started to orchestrate in her mind.

"There's a monster in those woods, you should stay away. It safeguards the treasure of the forest, the Cloche." The Cloche could heal anything and anyone, but nobody knew what it truly looked like. Perhaps it really was just a plain ringing bell. "It lies at the middle of that damned place. So many people have tried, explorers, bounty hunters, fat barons, and the desperate. But none have ever found it, and the only ones who have walked out from there alive go mad, and they rant on and on about the Guardian. Don't go there girl, you won't come back." Even as a child, she'd loathed the forest for taking every friend and her only family away from her. Her mother, her father, her best friend, her senior... all gone. And it wasn't just her, the other villagers all dispised the wretched place that had stolen their beloveds. 

But she had no choice. Her younger brother Dylan was on Death's door from the fever. The next day, one way or another, his suffering would end. She gritted her teeth, urging her legs to shuffle faster. Her feet were aching already but she could not tell the time as there was no day in this place.

If she stopped, she feared the eeriness of this place would keep her from going anywhere else. Another disgusting insect buzzed noisily in her ear, and she tried to brush it away. It persisted, as if insisting that it listen to her, until she could tolerate it no more, and slapped it with her two hands. She dared not wipe it on anything here, so she mopped it off with the hem of her outfit.

Somewhere, an owl made its nightly call. The poor youth could feel her skin tingle, Goosebumps rising all over her smooth skin.

Tired as she was, paranoia kept her from falling into the soothing state of sleep. She moved one limb forward then the next. Take one step, take another. Take one, take another. She focused on this monotonous pattern, rather than listen or look at those glowing eyes at the corner of her vision.

Her breathing was getting out of tempo, becoming more raggedy and out of alignment, so much so, that she was convinced that she wouldn't be able to take another--

A lullaby, a simple tune of notes, coming from a flute. The music was such a beautiful contrast of her surroundings, that any other point she would have fled in fear, but now, she didn't care, she was far too relieved. She just wanted to sink into its sound like a mattress. Following it, she teetered her way into a clearing where the lights were bright, and many glittering fairies danced to the melody, and the trees were tall and green. There was another child, one with a dark face, a straw hat that veiled his eye, and a tunic the colour of the forest. His bare feet thumped on the tree stump he danced upon, and he was the one who was playing the song on some sort of flute. Bronwyn sat down, wanting nothing more than to just sit there and let the music play for just a little longer. The ground seemed fresh, and the air was clear with a hint of dew.