I stop by the edge of the forest and look at the dry gray branches of the trees, reaching up to the sky as if begging for mercy from the heavens. There's no more wind lashing at my face anymore, the air is still and dead quiet as if the forest is holding its breath and waiting for my next move.
"I ask for permission to enter this woods," I say quietly, watching the shadows from the trees grow longer and darker as they slowly creep up towards me. "I mean no disrespect to the forest or its spirits, I only seek to help my brother, nothing more. Please forgive my trespassing for it is only made with good intention in my heart." I give one step forward and finally cross the invisible line where a barrier of gray trees stands on guard, marking the border of the forest.
I am inside Blaewen Forest now. There is no turning back.
I keep a steady pace as I go deeper and deeper into the woods, looking for any signs of wildlife or its presence. I can hear a few birds chirping far away up on the trees and I see some claw markings on dead trunks and old logs laying on the ground, but I don't spot any animals scurrying away or hiding anywhere in the forest.
I try to follow some deer tracks, to see if I can find where they have been digging through the snow, but the few tracks that I find all disappear as quickly as I spot them.
Wildlife is not going to help me today, but there is still one last trick I can use. I can try to keep an eye out for the color blue showing above the snow. I need to find a gathering of Glory-of-the-snow, a delicate star-like flower that blooms with the most vivid blue throughout all winter in this forest. It is known to appear in small clusters near air pockets in the snow, and the chances I have to find the roots for my brother buried beneath those blue flowers will be high.
All I need is a small patch of these flowers to show me where the air pocket is, but I can't seem to find any sign of blue anywhere.
A song drifts back into my head and I hum it along, quietly to myself. It's an old nursery rhyme about blue flowers that I had heard a long time ago.
'And so it begins, our tale in a song,
of blossomed blue treasure, of too long ago…'
A violent gale sweeps through the forest, making my cloak billow madly as it brushes past me, and it is right then, that I hear… a low whisper carried by the wind… Or is it just my mind playing tricks on me, playing old sing-songs into my ears to distract me from the cold and fear that I am feeling?
'Two lines to remember, to take it to heart,
If all is forgotten, remember this part…'
All the branches of the trees around me creak and moan in complaint, strained by the force of the wind that keeps tugging childishly at them, to make them pay attention.
'A little of blue… might be able to save you.'
The whisper continues, this time not as low as before.
'A whole lot of blue will be making undue…'
I recall hearing this lullaby many times before… it was something the elders in my village used to sing for children, a song about the heart of the forest and the sea of blue flowers that bloom there.
This time the melody doesn't seem peaceful or calming like I remembered them to be though… it has an ominous ring to it now, something eerie that seemed to be lurking beneath the words and the rhymes.
I tighten my grip over the handle of the knife that is tucked on the side of my belt, hidden underneath my cloak. 'I am not a weak, defenseless girl. I can defend myself from any danger this forest might throw in my path', I chant this to myself, over and over inside my head, while I try to tame the bubbling panic that is climbing up my throat whenever I think about snarling wolves and haunting spirits that could be lurking close by.
Another strong gust of wind blows past me, making me stumble back with its force. I almost trip over the root of a tree that's sticking out of the snow, like a gnarly black finger rising from a white blanket on the ground.
I force myself to climb over a small slope and when I reach the top of the snow mount, I cover my mouth to stop a gasp that escapes my numb lips.
'If you ever take sight of this violent's blue strike…'
It cannot be. I couldn't have walked this far and so deep into the forest, could I?
Goddess, please, say it isn't so.
'...let be known as a warning, not unlikely delight.'
I watch in horror, in a distance not so far from where I stand, a long surface of never-ending blue that stretches as far as my eye can see. This is forbidden territory that no one should ever dare to enter, in Winter or Summer, no matter the time… and I had accidentally stumbled upon it.
Blaewen's heart pulses before my eyes, a sea of Glory-of-the-snow flowers moving like waves in sync with the brush of the wind, carrying an eerie melody in its wake.
'Oh, the blue heart of Blaewen! 'Tis a sight to behold, m'dear…
Beats with a wind's gentle stroke, or the gales of sinner's fears.'
Buried memories of my childhood rush back to me…
A long time ago, my mother and I were walking in these same woods, on a warm summer afternoon filled with playful games and laughter… I stumbled into an open clearing and an ocean of blue spread long and wide before my eyes. I had never seen anything like it!
Oh, how the flowers bloomed with splendor that day in the sunlight, so many types of blue brush strokes merging in one big canvas in this magical clearing… When the sun hits the trees circling this area during the longest day of Summer, they glow as if their barks are made of the purest silver… A stunning jewel nesting at the center of the forest, the most beautiful and deadly treasure, tucked deep within its heart.
I ran to them because I wanted to touch the pretty flowers, but my mother stopped me in time, pulling me sharply by the arm. I learned that day about The Blue Heart of Blaewen, the sacred patch of land at the core of the forest, where only creatures made of mist and shadow are allowed to enter.
My mother had told me then, 'Beware of beautiful things in this forest, child, for it is a trap for our eyes and our heart. The blue is a warning to keep us away, but it can also be a trick to lure us closer and trap us within.' And she warned me in the most serious tone. 'Do not ever trespass into the heart of Blaewen, the blue is for caution, to keep us at bay. Too mighty to bear is the price that you'll pay.'
This was the first time that I was told about the Offering Day.
During the Summer solstice, on the most special of days, the people from my village have a sacred ceremony made near the Gray Sentinels. We light a big bonfire to honor the Goddess and to thank her for the many blessings she bestows upon our land.
On that day, the Offering Day, forest spirits come out to play in the woods. That is also the day that the Mist People make their presence known to us. The villagers perform a spiritual ritual at midnight when we offer our finest youngsters to the Mist People, who choose only a few to wander with them into the Blue Heart of Blaewen. It is the highest honor anyone can receive, I was told later by the village elders.
From those few chosen, most come back at the end of the night, but some… some do not share the same fate. Some just don't come back at all.
None of us know if these chosen ones are taken by Blaewen's to rest there forever, turned into a blue-petal flower to live deep in its heart, or if they are chosen to live in joy and prosperity as company for the Mist People in their magical fairy land.
But this ceremony is for warmer times, to wander into the forest is only safe in the Summer. Today we are far from Summertime. This is the Winter in its full weight and longest night, with its frosty fingers stretching endlessly across the cold land while the Goddess sleeps underneath the earth, for she too needs to rest and replenish her strength.
Today, not even the bravest of huntsmen dare to adventure into the forest. Deer meat is very scarce and even the expensive wolf fur is not appealing enough to be worth the risk. The price is too high, and no one is willing to pay.
'Too mighty to bear is the price that you'll pay', the song says, and we all listen.
All but me. Because I am desperate, and my brother is running out of time.
And I refuse to lose him like I had lost my mother. I must be bold and brave for him now. A little of blue might be just the thing that could save him.
I must take what I came here for.
Whatever the cost.