Dari tried to ignore the pulsating pain which made her feel as though she would throw up at any minute. The taunts and jeers had all been muddled into one incessant droning. She could no longer hear what their current complaint about her was- maybe it was the crudely torn, dirty rags which she wore, or the limpness of her too long dark brownish-red hair; maybe she had accidentally walked down one of the allies they had dubbed holy ground; or maybe, for the umpteenth time, she had treated them to the sharpness of her tongue. She could not quite tell now as the rocks they threw increased in size and number. More persons must have joined the onslaught. She could not quite tell how long she had been in this exact predicament. As the sun abandoned her, the dozens of other times she was in this situation all melted into one.
She had been subjected to this kind of treatment on this island as long as she could remember being there. The people believed that she, a runaway, was a homeless spawn of the devil that evil seemed to follow. At least that is how she was treated since she first arrived. She had no idea why most folks seemed to avoid engaging with her. She had run away from an orphanage at the back of a church five years prior and stole a ride unnoticed in the food storage of a trading caravel. She arrived here with hope of a better life, but things did not turn out as she envisioned. Now a beggar, with the unexplained scorn of the fishing village, Dari had hardened to accept her fate to either be killed or banished from the village at some point in the future. The adults never armed her with more than loathful side stares, but they also did nothing when the village children attacked her for any one or more of very many reasons. Dari did not expect to live exceedingly long. She probably would not.
As tears stung her blood shot eyes, a thousand images of the similar abuse she had endured up to this point flashed before her eyes. She knew then that she must be dying. She knew it would happen sooner or later, but she was not ready. Dari felt exhaustion soften the earth beneath her briefly before rage took over giving her a power that she had not felt before.
Her anger rose and so did her back. She got up, opened her eyes, and turned to face them. There was only one person standing there. He did not move. She could not quite see him because the light from lit candles in rooms along the alley were insufficient. All she saw was the silhouette of someone she hoped would help her.
She called out to him, "Hey, are they all gone?"
The relief in her voice was only met with a sinister smile that she could not see.
Her eyes squinted as she looked from the outline of his ill-shaped head to his elongated neck. His crooked spine was evident even from her position. Her eyes travelled to both his hands hanging loosely, barely swinging with two fist size rocks. It is then that she realized who he was.
She took only two steps back before he raised both his hands in quick succession. She barely turned to run deep into the darkness when she felt both stones connect with the back of her head within a second of each other. The next thing she knew was the tall dreary buildings on either side of them spun awkwardly before falling on top of her. Her last words were his name.
"Scunta," she muttered before everything felt heavy and went dark.
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"Wake up, brat!" Janga, a lone fisherman drawled. "Are ye a'right."
Janga's question was appropriate, but his course tone told her he did not really care so she did not answer.
"Are ye dumb, wench? It's almost morning. Ye need to git up and git out o' here before real trouble gits yah."
He used one arm to wrap thick ropes into a circular mound on his hand before disappearing below deck. He made this back and forth journey a few times each time with a different item. It seemed he was getting ready to set sail away from the fishing village. In the entire time it took him to complete his tasks. Dari had not moved. She rubbed the back of her head. The blood had long since dried and matted her dirty hair. Janga, just noticing how beat up she was, softened his tone.
"Come on dummy. Ye can stay on my boat till evening because you walking around like dat's gonna bring yah even more trouble."
Janga's desire to get rid of Dari was clear to even poorly discerning eyes. His impatience would have made Dari suspicious if she had been in a better condition. She did not say a word but accepted the offer to stick around the first person she met who did not instantly shun her. It had been a long time since anyone had been remotely kind to her. She began to wonder how she had ended up on his boat, but try as she might, no clear thought could make it through her hazy mind.
Janga stopped what he was doing to stretch his arm out to her. The man helping her up was skinny like her tall and though he smelled quite fishy, he was cleaner than she was. His sea-sun reddened facial hair covered most of his face, but his eyes gleamed with kindness.
She walked across the deck behind him. His boat was not big, but it was a double level Sea King. Soon enough, Janga disappeared somewhere towards the back of the boat. Dari looked around. The boat was a mess. There were broken, repaired and new fishing contraptions everywhere. Two fishing guns and an old-fashioned harpoon lay casually against the left of the standing cabin. The boat smelt of fish and vinegar.
"Dummy, make you'self useful. Go below deck and prepare some food." What sounded like a disembodied voice floated from the stern to Dari.
She was originally offended by what he called her, but the promise of food made her forget the offence almost instantly.
The lower level was just as much a mess as the deck but there was no shortage of food, so she did not mind. She made a mental note to clean up a little after eating to repay Janga for his kindness.
Janga had many fish in countless wooden barrels. She was not sure what the odd smelling liquid they were in was, but it seemed to be preserving their freshness. While Dari was never actually taught how to cook, she had hidden outside enough restaurant back doors and windows to know she should add seasoning to the meat after scraping off the scales. It was when she finished this that she realized she had no way of lighting a fire under the pot within which the fish lay with a few other staples she found about the place.
As if Janga sensed her dilemma, he walked in, snapped his fingers below the pot and the pot dangled in the air and started simmering under purple-green flames. Dari jumped back with her mouth agape. She could not have figured how he did that. She was utterly speechless, but this did not alarm her host as he already thought she was dumb. She sat on the floor dumbfounded until the smell of newly burnt fish permeated the already fishy boat. She did not know how to remove the pot nor undo this magical fire.
As if he could read her panicked thoughts, Janga bellowed down to her, "Just snap your fingers!"
She did not know he was joking. Janga was starting to enjoy teasing her. She seemed to always attract this sort of response from strangers. He only played that trick on her because they were out of sight and no one would believe such a story from her, even if she could find someone willing to listen. Besides, she was looking way too sullen on top of being beaten up. He figured a shock would perk her up. She snapped her fingers and the flames rose around the pot in a gigantic blast and then disappeared.
Janga walked in to see the pot slowly descending to the ground. He was now dumbfounded. the dumb wench had powers. And by the shock lining her bony face, he was sure that she too was completely unaware.
They sat together and ate quietly.
When Dari swallowed her last bite and told Janga thank you, Janga almost spat out his own food.
"The dumb wench can speak?"
"I'm not dumb!" Dari retaliated. She had had enough of his half-taunts. Having a full stomach also gave her back her strength.
He took a good look at her dirty dishevelled appearance and decided to hold back on the insults. He would talk to her more after she had gotten some rest. The thoughtful fisherman sent her to nap in his cot while he continued working on the deck.
She did not wake up till near late evening. Straight away, she made to leave the boat. After all, kindness usually required payment and she had nothing to pay this strange old man that had been eyeing her all day while she half slept.
Janga was still by the stern when she decided to say goodbye. She walked gingerly around his gadgets strewn on the floor by his helmsman cabin. When he saw her, he invited her to join him. He motioned with his hands for her to sit but she declined firmly but respectfully.
Janga was learning how to push her buttons.
"So, you eat my food, add dirt and grime to my bed but you can't spare an old man a conversation?"
It may have been guilt or something else she could not quite explain but she sat on the floor of the boat as he instructed.
Janga said thoughtfully, "Yah might not look it, but you are pretty special. Do yah know that?"
Dari was not used to receiving compliments and shifted on her derriere uncomfortably.
He scratched his matted beard before continuing, "Wench, you have powers. 'ave yah never been in trouble and not know how you got out of it? Yah never do nuttin that made you different from other people?"
The old man must obviously have been drinking because he was not making sense. Dari started shuffling quietly backwards because she intended to get off this crazy man's boat.
In an instant, Dari lost vision of her surroundings. She could not think. In her mind, she envisioned a gangly figure lurking amidst frightening frees staring at her menacingly. Suddenly, she held on to the back of her head and breathed out painfully, "Scunta."
The old man jumped up in time to see a mob of men running down the pier led by a strangely tall partially deformed boy. He realised then what happened to Dari. He also realized she was more special than he had thought. Could this be her?
He threw her in the water to protect her, but she dipped beneath the surface twice before squeezing out choppily, "I...can't...swim."
"Dat's a'right, Chile," Janga drawled before the men jumped onto his boat. "Yah won't die cuz yah is only dreaming."
She took her last breath as she went under the water for the third and last time.
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Cold sweat washed her forehead as she gasped for air to breathe. The sudden movement made her 5' 8" frame lose its balance. Dari fell off the rock that had been her bed the night before. She had fallen asleep sitting on and into the sharp brush. Getting up seemed as though it would take more effort than she wanted to exert since she just awoke from her dream.
Dari gasped for air again involuntarily. The taste of salt pervaded her mouth. She coughed a little, and even had trouble breathing. She shook her head unconsciously as if to shake away the sensation. She would never get used to after-effects of such vivid dreams. After pulling her map from the holder on her waist, she double checked her location. If she started walking now, she would be at the Wretched Forest in two days' time. The thought had an ominous feel to it, but she got up, drank some water from her bottle and started walking in the dark. Time was of the essence, and she was getting no rest while sleeping, so continuing her journey seemed the best decision.
In jest, she thought morbidly, "I can sleep when I'm dead."
Her thought was followed by a bitter taste in the back of her throat. As she made her way through the sparse trees of the open plain, the dead air kept her anxious. Dari became so deep in thought that the path before her blurred into a thick haze. Her last memory of Janga re-played, not for the first time, before her mind's eye. Occasionally, she stared into the stars and wondered if this was a dream or a memory. She had long since forgotten her early youth. She was twenty-two now.
It would have been odd if Dari were seen walking alone in the dark. No one walked alone at night. Many who did went missing and were never seen again; and many who were seen again were not seen alive. The few who dared to take the risk of travelling at night and live told strange, unbelievable stories. Some went a little senile eventually.
A stone halted her steps and she let out a muffled cry of pain. She squeezed her eye shut and opened it to see an image of a man floating by out of vision to her right. She turned her head to get a better look but as she blinked and tried to focus in the dark but nothing was there. The sound of dry twigs cracking in the pattern of footsteps behind her made her jump in alarm and grab her dagger. With the weapon outstretched, and her heart beating anxiously, she prepared to lounge at the potential attacker but her swift body twist resulted in nothing but the sight of a vast and healthy plain and a newly twisted ankle.
For a moment, she considered stabbing herself in the leg because she must be dreaming. She reconsidered when it occurred to her that she would face not only pain but the potential of drawing wild animals or beasts to the scent of her blood. Anxiety turned to a feeling of ridicule. She almost stabbed herself. Dari again faced the direction of the Wretched Forest. It was quite a way away. She couldn't afford for fear nor anxiety to weaken her resolve. Promises made to those dead must be kept and Janga's ghost would probably haunt her to an early grave if she broke hers to him.
She hobbled, one foot haltingly following the other. The timing was bad. This injury was delaying her getting out of this erie land. After about half hour's journey without incident, she realized that not even tuffs of dried grass existed beneath her shoes. The landscape was changing and so was the air around her. The atmosphere seemed to become denser. She thought she was only getting more tired until, in a fraction of a second, a full bodied wraith walked right through her, covering her face completely and stopping her mid-breath. Dari clutched her throat and coughed as she fell to the ground. Shew knew wraiths didn't exist in this part of the world. She continued heaving painfully from the incessant coughing while looking around for the creature. Her dagger stayed in its holder the entire time. She knew it had no use against such spectral being.
The only thing she could do was to run. Luckily, it seemed the being had no real interest in her. It didn't follow her. She might have just been in the way. Dari was mad at herself. She could usually sense the spiritual pressures of malicious beings. And while she would not have been able to fight this one, at least she may have hidden and avoided that encounter. Mentally, she berated herself for being so anxious. This was not like her. She'd been on edge since she entered this strange plain. Was this feeling of perpetual despondence from her own fear or was it due to external forces? Her steps had not faltered since encountering the lone wraith.
As twilight deepened, she spotted the silhouette of the Wretched Forest in the distance. The air become cold and stifling, as goosebumps stood up on the back of her neck before taking over her body. She looked behind her out of habit. What she saw made her race forward with no consideration for her injured ankle. Wraiths, about five of them, were floating towards her. What was happening? Why were they chasing her? The forest seemed too far away. All she could hear ran was her laboured breath and the ominous woosh of air as the five wraiths surrounded her. She froze, maybe from the cold or fear or both.
The eyes of the wraiths burned bright red as they closed in on her. If she died here, Janga's ghost would probably kill hers. This wasn't the time for ridiculous thoughts. She screamed in desperation as she awaited being torn apart by her pursuers. She morbidly imagined being 'de-torsoed' but nothing happened. It took her a full minute to realize the wraiths were only examining her. This was a weird and incredible experience. Would they let her live?
Since escape was not possible, Dari stared at them as they started at her. They appeared to be only the top half decrepit skeleton covered in wispy, tattered robes that flail in the wind in various directions in spite of the wind. She dared to look directly at their eyes but they were hollow and the fear they put in Dari bulged and throbbed like a bloody ball inching its way down her throat. She was going to suffocate. One of the five wraiths barrelled down from above her and sliced at her throat with a deadly force. The scream that escaped Dari could be heard for miles but there was no one to hear. She fainted.
When she woke up, it was dusk the next day. She got up and half-limped, half galloped in her in the initial directions she had been travelling. Waiting for them to come back was not something she was willing to risk. Her left hand never left her throat as her right hand clutched the dagger on her right hip. She would not be caught off-guard like that again.
Luckily, Dari reached the Wretched Forest in two days as estimated. The rest of her journey was eventless. She got there at night. Only small buzzing insects could hear the short prayer she whispered under her breath before clutching the dagger on her hip even tighter. As she had been for weeks now, she headed alone into the darkness. Not for the first time, she wondered how the Wretched Forest got its name.