The Black Forest

The Black Forest

Heart beating. Cold sweat that sticks. Puffs of hot air. Frightened gasps at every turn.

“Man is in the forest.”

“Do you think he’ll taste good?”

“Best stay away from him, child.”

“He’s upsetting the grass.”

“Get him away. The metal stings.”

The voices of the forest sang into her ears, a slow drum that purred, persistent and prying. It’s been years since they had a visitor and years more since they ventured this deep. Most would be deterred by the ebony trees she grew. Whoever they were, they must be desperate.

A step. A breath. She has never felt so young and so old at the same time. Years of being were taking a toll on her but time never mattered. Time was endless to her. A decade could pass and she wouldn’t notice, the sky unchanged no matter how much Men tried to conquer it. She took in a breath and the leaves rustled quietly, placing the thoughts of Men to the back of her head.

Cold, calm and crisp, the winter air caressed her cheeks, peppering them with dainty kisses that left them flushed and warm. She gave a soft smile to the forest, the trees that danced upon her return and the flowers that bowed upon her beauty. They knew who she was, as she knew who they were. They were her children, each crafted carefully by her eons before. Maybe even before that. She had been still for so long that the memories have all but faded like morning dew.

“Mother’s awake. Mother’s awake.”

“Straighten yourself.”

“Mother’s came to see us.”

The children’s whispers gathered and through the greens that waved and swayed, they appeared. Big and small, tall and short, eyes peering back to eyes, they came slowly towards her with their noses sniffing, whiskers twitching, tails swishing back and forth in a hazy daze of bliss.

She glanced at her children, all young and full of life. She felt their hearts beating, synchronised and calming, she could hear them clear as day. They were healthy and well. Good.

She glided across the grass, feet light and soft like baby feathers. Not a whisper, not a sound. Grace and serenity incarnate, she breathed and exhaled peace. The forest was calm in the presence of their mother and when she finally lifted her head to the skies, did they dared to speak.

“Man.”

“Running like a headless chicken.”

“Drinking the stream.”

“Upsetting the fish.”

“And the grass.”

“Stop him.”

“Get him out.”

“The metal stings.”

“Man.”

She raised her palm and a silence echoed the meadow. They watched and waited, a worry hanging over their heads as their home was raped and trespassed unceremoniously. The worry in their eyes were present, worry for their home, for their children and for their lives. Men had friends and one is never seen without another one. They recalled him, his face pale as sheet and his sweat dropping and scenting their earth, their grass. He plowed through Mother’s guardian trees, heaving and hacking away at the strong branches that guarded their home. The wolves howled at the fallen tree and the wind blew in anguish and still the man marched across their land.

She felt their distress, their concerns circling around the man that was let loose in their home. She closed her eyes and opened them, her eyes searching and finding. Her body stayed rooted and still but her sights leaped great distances, weaving and whirling about the trees until they have reached the far end of her forest. Her ebony trees, tall and foreboding, strong and firm, were cut and touched. A tree had fallen, its branches in pieces and its leaves scattered about, a hole in the barrier between her world and theirs.

She reached out and touched the fallen warrior, its dark bark empty and light. She felt its cry, ashamed and sorry. Failing its duty, it asked for no forgiveness as it deserved none. She shushed it to sleep, shaking her head and whispering sweet lullabies to its ears. A shiver in the leaves and the tree was no more, a black acorn sits on her palm, shining bright like the knight it will give birth to again.

She opened her eyes and she was at the meadow once more, the company of her children in front of her. The acorn, she dropped it and the earth swallowed it whole and a small sprout formed at her feet. She breathed in deep and the sprout swayed almost bashfully. She smiled at her small son before turning towards the others. They stared, anticipating the verdict she has of the man. She has seen what he had done to their guardian tree, she has seen the murder that has been committed. They hungered for blood and revenge.

A smile. She offered them a smile and they knew. They turned away from their Mother, either accepting the fate of the man or lamenting on how forgiving she can be. She chuckled at the thoughts her wolves gave her. They had always been eager to prove themselves.

A shift in the wind and and a whisper in the ear, she turned to confront the man.

Panicked, pained and paralysed with fear, he scrubbed the dirt from his hands in the pond. His eyes darted, scanning the trees for any shift or movement, his senses heightened by adrenaline. He shouldn’t be here. Here is bad. Here is wrong. Here is a major no-no.

“Goddammit!” He yelped when he felt a sting on his arm. The gash he had gotten from cutting down that black tree wasn’t washing away with the cool water. Instead, it burned and bit, an angry hue of red enveloping the area like an infection. He groaned. An infection was the last thing he needed. There were barely any medical supplies left and he can’t afford a blood infection.

He cursed his luck.

He managed to dull the pain by wrapping the wound with a bandage. As long as he kept pressure on it, it should be manageable. Feeling safer, the man decided to actually take in his surroundings, just to get his bearings of the area. Standing up, he felt a gasp lodged in his throat as his eyes finally drank in the scenery.

Words couldn’t describe the sight and neither could the dim light from the night mask the beautiful field of grass that beheld in front of him. The small pond that stood at his feet was just a small extension to a lake, connected by a long winding stream. The moonlight bounced off of the watery surface, winking at him, begging him to plunge into the cooling waters and wash away all of his worries.

He turned and the trees he had ran through carelessly were taller than he had first looked. Were they this big when he had entered? He didn’t know but the bushes that scattered below them were filled with flowers that gleamed elegantly and swayed with the soft wind, like little pretty girls dressed in gowns, it stunned him. He had never seen flowers like these, not even the ones in his village’s most famous flower shop could compare. They almost looked ethereal and mythical.

Honey and satin. A voice had tickled his ear and immediately he was reminded of something sweet and soft. It appeared out of nowhere but he wasn’t scared. Mildly surprise, yes, but he had almost anticipated it. As though, he knew someone was around. Except, that voice was just too shy to speak… until now.

He turned on his heel.

A woman. No, not a woman. Neither a girl. He couldn’t quite figure out. She was difficult to put an age to but he knew she was a girl. But again, he knew she wasn’t. What girl could emit such a glow that rivaled the moon’s? What girl could glide through the grass with such grace? What girl could have such dainty doe-like eyes that shone with an experienced glint? She looked older than she was but age eluded her. He knew she wasn’t human but his fear for the unknown was clouded over by curiosity and wonder.

“Who are you?”

The words slipped out of his mouth unexpectedly and immediately he regretted it. Rude. He knew he sounded rude.

“Ah, sorry.” He quickly reprimanded himself. The… thing tilted her head to one side, looking him up and down in slight bemusement and the man felt like an animal caged in a zoo.

He tried again.

“D-Do forgive me for trespassing your home but I need shelter. Would you be kind enough to put up with me for the night?”

Silence and the man only then realised that maybe she couldn’t understand him.

“I understand.”

The man’s heart jolted at the tiny voice, so tiny he had almost miss it. It sounded like a memory, when he was a little boy and his father had taken him hiking in the forest. The rustle in the trees, the gush of the coursing stream and even the small chirp of a newborn chick.

“I understand.” The girl repeated again, her voice loud and crisp.

The man recognised her voice. It sounded like the forest. She was the forest.

“You don’t belong here.” She said, her voice soft but her eyes sharp and unforgiving. She didn’t show it but he knew she was unhappy. Pissed at him if he was pushing it. Her eyes darted at the bag he had laid down next to the pond, his iron hatchet gleaming under the moonlight and immediately, he knew why she was angry.

The tree. I cut down her tree.

“The metal hurts.” She spoke instantly, as though she could read his mind. “The metal hurts the trees.”

“I-I’m sorry.”

“You killed my tree.”

“I… I’m sorry.”

“He was a very nice tree.”

“... Sorry.”

What a complete idiot. He felt like a grade A jerkbag for cutting the girl’s tree. If he had any chance of staying, he had lost it by then. The girl’s eyes bore straight into his and he felt himself flinch. Uncomfortable.

“Look, I’m–“ A gasp of pain cut him off and his legs failed him. All he could see was white, nothing but the cruel white, blinding him of everything but the pain. His hand seared and burned, the skin poked and pricked and peeled but he couldn’t see if it was true. All he could think about was the burning pain that scalded him. Nothing else mattered but the pain.

If he was screaming, he couldn’t hear it. If he was writhing in pain, he didn’t realise it. When the torture ended, it almost felt like an eternity. His heart hammered and his throat burned. Panicked, he untied the bandage on his hand and watched in horror as the reddish hue that was present a few moments ago shift to a merciless black, growing and rooting deep into his hands. They travelled along his veins, weaving and curving until each vessel was tinted with the darkness and his screams was heard.

He turned to the girl, to the thing, knowing full well this was her doing, fear and despair evident in his eyes.

“Please help me! Please, let me go!” He pleaded, kneeling towards her in forgiveness.

The eyes she had were sad and pitiful and she spoke with a quiet voice. “You can’t leave.”

Before he could ask why or even scream from the pain that was slowly creeping back, the girl was in front of him, close enough for their noses to touch. Her hands cupped his neck and cheek almost sympathetically and her eyes stared straight through him. Tears clouded his vision and he wept, desperate for release and mercy but the girl could only shake her head.

“You can’t leave. You are tainted.” She took a deep breath, her eyes closed. When she opened them again, they were filled with a soft happiness. “But you will be happy here, I promise.”

The man couldn’t speak a word, have a say in what she meant by that because she had kissed him and he felt himself falling. Falling and falling into nothing.

When he woke up, he felt stiff and different, as though he slept in the same position for too long. He looked down to his body, noting that he was clothed with a white sheet and felt a growing smile on his lips. Young, he was a little boy again. He turned and ran through the meadow, feeling the grass on his bare feet, his freckles warm with the sun shining down on him. He heard his name called and saw a group of boys who wore the same white sheet calling for him and he knew they were his brothers. Jogging towards them, they ran through the forest without a care in the world.

The children of the forest went about their day normally after their Mother had confronted the man. The wolves hunted and played, the deer jumped and grazed, the sparrows fed their young. They trusted their Mother’s decision in accepting the man into the forest and didn’t paid any mind to the new and young ebony tree that filled the hole. That tree needed time to adjust its new life in the forest.

But some were quite concerned about their Mother, whether creating and replacing an ebony tree had taken too much of her energy. They worried that there would be more visits by Men in the future but they slowly dismissed it. They were animals but even they have heard of the rumours that Men have created about their home.

“Stay away from the black forest.”

“You’ll be trapped in there forever if you went in.”

“You’ll anger the White Girl if you went in her forest.”

Funny how Men would concoct such tales just to keep themselves from knowing the truth. They had always feared the unknown, not wanting to see the truth themselves and would rather settle for the pretty lies. But the children of the forest decided that it was best that it stayed that way. They knew the Men destroyed everything it touched, raping and sucking all the goodness that nature had to offer. Looking back at their untouched and preserved homeland, they agreed that keeping them out is a good thing after all.