Joust from the regularity of my goals, and enveloped into this new world of greys and whites silhouetting the rocks and trees that filled the ever-darkening forest. With distance becoming its own entity that hoarded the things I loved in its evil den, warping my own vision. Everyday traditions and marking lost the glamor, hunching and contouring into monstrous amalgamations of contentment and unknown. I scour my belongings finding nothing more than tourn papers and what seemed like a traditional lantern. The lantern's lens cracked and handled hanging through the rusted loops of metal protecting a tender flame.
The flicker of the light illuminating the path below me, torn from the footsteps of hundreds of journeys all throughout this forest. Setting the lantern down, looking closer the steps seem to be the same, long boot shapes that ride into the mud creating valleys for water to accumulate, leaving puddles in a line forward, as the river of footsteps inches foot by foot deeper into the drifting mists. Not having any reference for where to go, I presumed that these were from the ones who must have known the way.
As I guard myself, not knowing what predators or beings may be lurking in the deep depths of the shadows, I trudge on following closely the march of those before me. Each step interrupted by ominous wails that echo through the thick grey walls that surrounded me. The cries sound from a time before I lost myself into this labyrinth of paranoia with each jolting my heart itching me to stop and help. The paths now diverging with some treading off to the sides. I stop and look into the grayed advance, shadowy shapes darting through the gaps in fog. The desire to want to help these people in pain only interrupted by a marking left on a tree. Lifting my sputtering flame to the tree is a grooved carving of X slashed deep into the bark of the wood. Lifting my hand to feel the splintered sidings my head filled deeper with the fog that surrounded me and the poisonous vapor of sadness invaded. As tears begin to swell into the eyes, and the deep expenses of white clouds surround me edging closer and closer a faint whisper could be heard, not from anyone else but my own.
Gaining in volume till a continuous chant of my own voice filled my shattered mind saying "Let Go." Feeling the licks of the shadowy mist dragging itself across my exposed skin, I feel the voices Yell it louder and louder and the pressure of the ringing in my mind brings me to cover my ears in fear they will soon succumb to chanting and be injured far beyond healing would lend its touching hand. As my hand leaves the faded carving, the chanting stops and the pain and suffering I felt vanished. The nearby fog receding to the towering position it resided before this experience. Grabbing the rope handle of my lantern I spin searching for whoever or whatever could have made those chants, but only being met with the familiar void of color. No other entity I could see besides the pressing feeling the trees emanate, making my every step lethargic.
Heeding the warnings from what I only could see as my self conscious, I got myself together and began to follow in the footsteps laid out for me. The wrapping of the weeping willows groping over the headway of the footpath. Vines dangling catching my heavy feet nearly caused my own entanglement, reducing my pace to a near halt as I voyaged the entrapping wood. The rusty lantern found itself grappled by the reaching branches, flickering as it jostled it attempting to disarm the prying grasp of the wicked shadows. The flowing grasp of the creaking limbs covering my legs and the familiar scratching of bark leaving my calves raw as it tightened around me, the deep markings in the trunks shifting to egregious smiles as I was intertwined into the forests suffocating leach. My body entombed into the very nature of the forest's timeless grip. As the leaves squirm their way up my face like extruded green veins, the warmth that the lantern had brought me begins to fade as the light flickers. Struggling to keep myself conscious from the constricting hug of the trees I shut my eyes and I begin to drift away and see images so forign but genuine. A scattershot of myself through these alien worlds of vibrancy, sitting along a cobbled bench with three figures I could not recognize but my heart swelled when I stared at their faces I could feel my whole body begin to heat. These people I don't recognize give the smallest bits of hope for me, as their smiles brought peace to my tattered will before it finally simmered out. The branches and twigs that I found my new prison came back into sight, followed by a tingling kiss of a campfire drifting smoke.
My arm that was holding the lantern was enveloped in a luminous red flame that danced its way up my shoulder. Waves of fear flowed through my body, but was quelled by a calmness that radiated when I came into contact with the colorful inferno. The vines around me pull away as I bulge what strength I could muster in an attempt to escape my living coffin. The twigs snapping from the strain as they attempt to escape the scorching fate that they would be suscepted to. Pieces of seared wood crumbling away from my body as the flames engulf me I step forward shattering the remaining fragments of vine that held me still. The yellow glow from the fire emanating a warmth soothed me as it laid bare on my skin. Deep in the flame the flickering showed images that danced and grew larger the things I could only imagine being friends. The fire began to sizzle as it burned on top of my flesh, but didn't hurt. It began to steam as it shunk its way down to the top layers of my clothes and body. It dissipated and returned the fog to the white matte creature that loomed over me, silently fatiguing me into submission. The only light being that familiar orange tint that broke apart this world of the mundane, lodged in the ashen rubble of my entrappers. Picking it up and wiping off the ash and soot that has accumulated on the bars that protect the flame I continue forwards leaving behind me a burned sarcophagus that very well could have been my fate.
I move forwards out of the grove of trees that perched over me. Into a dirt glade that the paths moved the center encircling a large stone. The stone's arrowhead features stood in the center of the clearing, with the footprints making trips around it. Lowering my lantern, the paths diverged and went deeper into the woods.
Gathering closer to the stone in the center I motioned my lantern to inspect the inscription. The jagged face of the stone was interrupted by the antiquious carving of the words
"Searching for purpose doesn't lie only in the hands who are deemed strong. True salvation requires the erasure of the complacency of nature."
Looking back through the shroud at the muddied ponds that marked my path through these cursed woods, and the warm glow that I could feel from the flame of the lantern drenching my face in a warm yellow light. The three paths all sought new directions marching the same intensity throughout their winding trails into the unknown. The white mist drifting through the expanse of the open glade, I stand away from the previously walked trails. Staring into the wall of haze my stomach felt itself contour and stretch at the thought of entering the unknown, and being completely void of any assistance through this shroud of silence. The words I had read heard echoed through my mind bouncing back and forth and I let go. Stepping into the mist, I could feel the dark clouds encompass my whole body. Venturing forth I could feel the air getting thinner as it began to get darker, the lethargic feeling doused myself in fatigue. This treacherous march was set aside when the mist began to lighten. Letting through the deep darkened shapes around me began to shift to autumn yellows. The mist began to evict itself from its hallowed walls, Screening through the cloudy soup the grounds green vibrancy began to pierce through its cloudy vale, the fog clearing in cascades of color returning to the world around me.
Recessing back into the wood I looked around at the return of vibrance. My lantern's warmth was completely overwhelmed by the new radiance that filled the world around me. My soul vibrating like an instrument I never learned to play, the world's new beauty captivating me every moment. The sun brussels itself against the leaves as it winks at me through the branches. It's rays warming my arms in rivers encompassing my tenuous resolve bringing a new sanctuary. I moved back to the path I originated from and hung my lantern on a branch on its way to where my camp was, dreaming it would be a marker to whoever next takes the journey that there is still hope.
-Sincerly, Icarus
YOU ARE READING
Icarus, The Fallen
PoesíaAnthology - After falling from grace these stories show the struggles and turmoil that face Icarus in his own mind, warping and distorting to his newfound wounds.
