The Hulder People

Chapter One:

A light in the darkness began to glow faintly beneath a single tree. The tree was surrounded by miles of towering pine, but stood weakly in the night, remaining solitary. The vines that coiled around every root and every branch, bloomed flowers as small as the eye of a needle, and smelled sweet, like a bushel of honeysuckle beside the water.

In the darkness of the night, the light under the tree was small. As it illuminated her way, a shadow hid her face in the dark. Held in her hands, she snuffed the light out with a blow, like a candle containing a flame. Suddenly, with that, the only light left in the night was the slowly waning moon hanging over the canopy.

Dark green foliage was lining the horizon for miles on end, with these forest people living all throughout the woods. One with the forest, for the forest was one with them.

A female, the one who'd blown out her light, was now walking in the darkness between all of the roots and shrubs, back to her home. A back hollow oak curling its trunk inwards; it was embedded deep within the moist, fertile earth, and once she entered through its wide mouth she'd arrive within a deep place. Dark in nature, but lit by the Hulder people; there underneath was where they slept in slumber. It was there that they ate in peace, away and hidden from their close but different relatives.

They spoke in the same tongue as their neighbors, to use in warding off their worrisome presence. Those neighbor people would run vigorously from their sudden voices, even if their sound was sweet, for they thought that the bodies of the trees were occupied by the spirits. But spirits don't dwell in the forest, and the Hulders knew, for they believed that they dwelled within the sky and its stars.

The fear of the forest continued for their relatives, even if the Hulders had stopped guiding them away for many storms and seasons. But because of this, things began to change as one of the two homes developed a curiosity...

***

On the back porch of a home in Idaho, the dry and torn bark of the red cedar, and the ruff trunks of the pine towered over the roof. Sitting on a dampened bench, was a young boy. He had a blanket draped over his shoulders, and wrapped around his torso from the chill of the night. The cicadas chirped in the bushes and trees, as he looked out into the forest and listened. Jenson was hunched over, as he rubbed his arms in the slight coolness of the breeze.

It was late in the night, and every person he knew were probably already fast and deep asleep. He's been awake though, for a long while now. It seemed he was under another night of endless insomnia, with being stuck in his restless thoughts of school and family. He was now living with his aunt, with a whole new place on his mind... He felt stressed and emotionally worked to exhaustion. The only tired feeling he's felt in more than a month, and it lie deep in his chest as horrid.

The next day, he made his way down the steps of the front door. The only decoration in the yard was a partially shattered gnome under the front porch, with its paint chipped and weathered. It was lying there, with the dead grass and transparent dandelion puffs being blown away by the wind. Probably an old relic from the previous owners, something no one had or will notice anytime soon.

As he worked his way down the worn dirt road, he looked at the neighborhood around him. Sadly though, all it had was his single, isolated, and solemn house to occupy it. Everyone else, as far as he could tell, lived on the other side of town, closer to the school.

Everything was so far away from his home, and he felt like an outsider whenever he went out to town. He seemed to be more alone than he had thought when he first moved in with Aunt Laura. But what could he do? Surely he wasn't one to whimper and whine, but could he just let it be? He wasn't the kind of guy who would just lie back and take it. But maybe if there was someplace he could go, or something he could do to make it all seem better. But nothing came to mind.

***

Dark, deep eyes scanned the shore of the stream. A ribbon of clear water ran through, with smooth pebbles coating its bank. The light footsteps of a close fawn came closer to the Hulder girl, as she pondered at the animal in curiosity. Near the rocks that she hid by, algae and lichen made a ring at the waters edge. Small tadpoles swam like minnows in the shallow water, and fish jetted by like arrows in the current. The trees were still close and outlining the stream, providing small spots of shade to rest under.

As she ended her long gazes at the deer, she walked along with the direction of the stream, and as she went further down she came upon a slowly declining hill. The water gradually ran into a thinner line across even more moss covered rocks and growing grass and weeds. Sooner than expected the forest became thicker, and the shade started to overtake the bright sunlight barely bleeding through. This was good though, for she always knew which places were safe to go, and which way would lead her home.

With striding past all of the bushes and thorns with ease, she climbed onto the branches of a tall tree. She had a tail, like all of the others, with dark tan fur covering its lion-like style. Its bob had the faint and black impression of rings, and as she made her way out onto one of the limbs of the trunk, she balanced her smooth steps higher up the tree with speed.

She overlooked the view from the treetops, and saw overhead her people's far and safe territory of the forest. Every bump and bend in the woods or creek in the soil was familiar to her, but the others never strayed too far off in fear of the neighbors.

Their relatives were odd to them, even if they both spoke the same language. They couldn't find their way around the woods, for they lived in their "off" shelters.

They seemed so different, even if they were the same. But some, maybe even most, shared an oddly strong resemblance to the Hulders. Eyes that shared understanding, and minds that sought out the value of beauty.

A butterfly's wings whose color was a royal blue, was treasured as much as a gem to the Hulders. Whereas their relatives seem to just take a moment to glance at the butterfly's gleam, to then go back to whatever they were doing or saying.

But the Hulders would never try, nor want to come across them, for they still disliked their way of living separate from the world of nature around them. That is why, after many centuries, they are yet to come across one another in a mutual respect or interest.

As the Hulder girl reflected on her thoughts of this, she took in the smooth and fresh air around her. She felt the comfort and joy of being able to feel the life of each plant and animal, all around and below.

***

Jenson sat silently in his desk, neglecting the lesson with his own worries. He focused on the view from the window, back down at the trees. He saw the churning clouds in the sky, and felt the stuffiness of the soon arising rain in the air.

He knew it would storm today, but the sounds of thunder alerted him, because with his house being surrounded by trees, separate from the town, lightning could cause his house to have another power outage. This wasn't as ridiculous as it seemed though; it happened more often than even his aunt would've expected. Laura would be frightened much more than he was when it occurred, and she would hide in her room with all of the candles she had hoarded for herself. Aunt Laura was a nice lady, but sometimes she had her flaws and fears. She would leave Jenson to fend for himself, within his dark and silent room without any of the lights; and it's not like he could just conjure up a source whenever he pleased.

When he began his long walk home, he felt the drizzles of the first fallen water droplets crash down upon the tip of his nose. He saw in the overcast of dark clouds above, the glow of approaching lightning. He rushed home, hoping to get there in time to scavenge at least one candle for his room.

"Aunt Laura-- the reasons I live with you." He grumbled under his breath.

***