RE-CHILDREN OF THE FOREST
The trees were bleeding.
Dark, viscous sap dribbled from their flaking bark, puddling into the darkening mass below. It looked as though it were a liquid parasite, deliberately spreading corruption and disease in its wake. This strangeness, however, had gone unnoticed as I urgently wound around the twisted branches of these tainted trunks; they scratched at my cheeks, pawed at my hair, wailing for attention––but my addled mind had only locked upon one thought, banishing all else to the forgotten corners of my mind:
Find the Lost.
Who that could have possibly been was a mystery to me. The dying leaves beneath my rapid feet flew high into the air, an arc of golden umber, before coming to an abrupt halt. My body lurched forward at the sudden absence of motion. My feet refused to go any further. Tripping, I grasped for the nearest tree, steadying myself. After a moment, my bewilderment eclipsed my acute urgency to move.
Where am I?
I pressed my hand against my abdomen, grasping at the cramping pain, and finally took in my surroundings. There was a body. Resting in the gnarled remains of what should have been a tree was a body. Gracefully laying upon its branches, an arm dangling out from between its wooden fingers, swaying in the gentle autumn breeze. It was almost elegant, this ligneous cage, had the body not been there. It was a grotesquely beautiful sight.
An enchantingly nightmarish tableau.
Stepping away from the tree, I stumbled closer to the body. It wore tattered clothing and pollen-dusted shoes. A limp, pale hand rested upon its chest, its slight shoulders limned in dying roses. Closing my eyes, I inhaled a shuddering breath before angling ever closer.
My heart stuttered.
Dark hair swept across the brows of a wan, sickly face; his long, thick eyelashes rested upon his sallow cheeks, his full lips pressed into a subtle frown. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed, as if frozen in endless concern. I lifted my hand subconsciously, smoothing out the lines of worry. Such unspoken burdens were not fitting upon this ethereal beauty.
A dark substance came away on my fingers, marring his unblemished skin. The soft hiss of the trees silences. The clearing darkened. I focused on my hand as the air began to waver, watching the inky sap sliding down my wrist, painting my veins black. My hand spasmed as the scream building up at the back of my throat threatened to break free.
"You…"
A broken voice shattered the suffocating silence. Empty, ivory eyes locked onto mine from the mangled branches, disturbingly void. Screaming, I scrambled back from the body, tearing my skin on cutting thorns and stones. His head twisted in my direction as the dark poison spread spindly fingers along his skin, melting his cheeks, rotting his lips.
"Please…you…"
He extended a trembling hand, eaten by corruption and decay. Pleading eyes melted into mine, striking against the haze clouding my vision. His bleeding lips peeled back into a painful grimace.
"Please save––"
My eyes flew open. I gasped for air, clutching at my chest. The darkness shifted before me, the dancing shadows gradually settling into furniture and walls. A trembling breath fell from my lips, dispersing into the air. I closed my eyes.
A dream. It was a dream. I was safe.
Twirling lights spun against my closed lids, flickering into festering skin and desolate eyes. A breath, a sigh. I wiped at the subtle tickle at my chin and stared at the dampness on my hand. Grey light bled in through my curtains, calling forth the beginning of dawn. I slid out of my coverlet and descended the stairs.
"Father."
He looked up from the paper in his hands, regarding me with indifference.
"Elise," he acknowledged, shifting his attention down to the documents scattered across the table and sipping his tea. "Where have you been?"
I settled into the seat across from him, closing my fingers over a butter knife and numbly eyeing an extra piece of toast. "I haven't gone anywhere, Father."
"The leaves in your hair do not speak in your favour."
"Leaves?" I touched my hair, watched a crimson leaf soundlessly flutter to the kitchen floor. Another settled in the midst of my palm. Confusion flickered through me, followed by the hollowed feeling of dread.
Silence descended upon us.
"Surely," my Father began, fixing me with one eye over the edge of his paper. "You haven't gone on a midnight excursion with that boy?"
"Father." I didn't have the energy. Dropping the butter knife, I pushed back my chair, grimacing at its screeching protest. "I would appreciate it if you didn't make such accusations."
China chimed as he slammed down his cup. "You understand how devastating this would be to our reputation. You are no longer a child, Elise. That said, I believe you should no longer––"
"Father." I stared at him. "It was a dream."
The answering silence was something tangible, like a suffocating blanket wrapping over our mouth, or hands closing over our throats. Our dreams, the strange, mystical things they were; if distinct in our mind's eye, they are undeniably true. This unusual clairvoyance was a peculiarity within my family, a closely guarded secret spoken to no one. Witchcraft and magic were the terrors of our small, dismal town, already rumoured to be cursed as the few dozens of people brave enough to venture into our chilling forest never returned. To be accused of such crimes lead to death and torture. The daunting shadows of the trees fell east to our town, stretching for miles before settling into the mountains. Through centuries, stories of evil spirits and malevolent creatures residing within its wooden borders grew, eventually falling into legends, tales and even children's songs.
Do not venture into those wicked woods, little one, they would whisper, tucking blankets under chins. Else the demons, envious of your life, cast you from your skin and devour your soul.
And so, we remained inconspicuous, a family of silent dreamers.
Briefly closing his eyes, my Father released a laboured sigh. Turning, I pulled a cloak over my shoulders and slipped into my shoes.
"I will go out to buy necessities," I said after a moment, reaching for the door. His heavy gaze weighed upon my shoulders. "I will not act impulsively." Another sigh. "Please inform mother while I'm gone."