Children of the Forest

Chapter One

    I was running, tripping over myself in my haste, urgently winding around the sinuous woods. The sharp, spindly fingers of the trees scratched at my cheeks and tugged at my hair, hissing incomprehensible words and whispering along with the wind. Leaves rustled as they were littered onto me, blurring my vision with fiery red, tangerine oranges and pallid yellows. Umber colours crunched under my feet, flying. But I didn't notice any of these things. Only one single thought was circling through my mind, frightening any other that happened to linger to the shadowed corner of my mind.

Find him.

Who it was, exactly, that I was supposed to find was still unclear to me. It was just this acute urgency that forced my legs forward. My heart flitted through my chest, nonplussed, like a tiny bewildered bird flapping around, unsure of what to do or where to go. Suddenly, my feet came to an abrupt halt and my hand flew up to catch a tree, steadying myself. Cold puffs of air blew out of my mouth as I frantically gulped for air.

Then I lifted my eyes.

Somebody was there, but they were unconscious. It looked as though they were resting on a bed of oak branches and sepia roots; though, their body was slightly inclined and it was encaged within gnarled branches, as if the trunk of this strange, otherworldly tree had grown fingers and was now clasping this human between its wooden palms. Or was it a tree? Trees have leaves and branches. They are tall. This stump was merely comprised of twisted roots and barren brown arms with one or two sick leaves.

Who was this person?

I breathed into the crisp autumn air, wincing as it pinched the inside of my frozen nose. Licking my numb, dry lips, I pushed one foot in front of the other, deliberately stumbling closer to the body. It wore rumpled, dirt-caked, clothes and dusty shoes powdered with pollen. One limp arm dangled from between tangled, thick branches. The body looked young, I realized. An icy gust of wind stroked a chilling finger down my spine. Teeth chattering, I leaned forward to scrutinize the face that belonged to this unfortunate body, desperately attempting to ignore the dread that pooled at the pit of my stomach.

My heart stuttered.

That face was young, so young. Almost around my age. His face was wan, sickly white; all colours seemed to have been drained from his face. Long, thick black eyelashes rested against his cheeks and dark curls fell over his forehead and framed his ghostly face. He looked like a dozing, ethereal beauty. But something about his features looked oddly familiar, as if I had seen him before. He appeared so similar to someone, but I couldn't put my finger on who. He was almost identical to –

My head shot up from my frigid pillow. I peered around my room, perplexed, and blinked once, twice, to help my eyes adjust to the shadowed darkness. By the greyish, dull light bleeding through my curtains, I was able to tell that it was nearly dawn. Shivering, I glanced at the clock. It was nearly seven.

I scrambled out of bed and stumbled towards my door clumsily, having just woken up. Even though I had just awoken from the realm of dreams, my legs were far too lethargic and my body far too sluggish. I felt as though I had just finished a marathon. But I barely regarded this as I darted down the stairs in a frenzy, with my blood thrumming in alarm and my stomach roiling around my abdomen like a timorous puppy. I barreled into the kitchen, nearly knocking right into my father in the process.

"Father!"

"Elise –?" He stared at me with utter confusion twisting all of his features, watching as I panted loudly, clutching my chest. "Where have you been?"