A scrawny figure covered in a thin cloth moved slowly through the thick undergrowth, guided solely by the moonlight and the stars above. They carried nothing except for one old, stained pillow that barely contained the feathers stuffed inside. The strong winds sent shivers down his spine, and left his ears and nose stinging.
With a slight push, he moved aside a thorny vine that blocked his way to a small area that seemed emptier than the rest of the forest, save for one small sapling in the center. It was an oak tree, no more than 8 feet tall with a trunk the size of a cane. It wasn't a sight to behold, but to the boy, it was a temporary refuge. A place he could rest for the night, and wake to in the morning. Maybe by then he'd know which way to go. Maybe by then, he'd find her.
Though his growling stomach urged him to find something to eat, his shaking legs couldn't bring him much farther for the day. The boy laid his pillow down near the base of the tree, and curled up next to it, hoping it would serve even a semblance of comfort or warmth. It did not.
Somewhere in the distance, dead leaves crackled underneath footsteps. The wind twisted through the trees in a way that resembled a whisper, just on the edge of words. Fireflies drifted from the branches above, but their glow was too bright. To the boy, however, none of it mattered as his eyes fluttered closed, and the silence of sleep consumed everything else.
He fell into a sleep so deep that time didn't seem to exist; an endless, soft darkness that faded just as quickly as it came.
The well-worn pillow drifted into view once more as he blinked awake. To him, it seemed as if no time had passed, but that couldn't be true. As he put out his hand to push himself up, he felt the strong, coarse bark of a tree branch.
He widened his eyes in confusion. He had fallen asleep on the grass and dirt, yet now he lay on a thick branch connected to a tree that was far larger than he could see.
He crawled toward the base of the branch and peered over the edge. There was no forest floor– only an endless sprawl of leaves and twisting branches that faded into the swirling silver mist where the ground had once been.
Looking up, however, he could see the tree begin to narrow. The chaotic bundles of branches tightened into a calm peak, just a little higher than where he stood. So, he reached out toward the sturdy, brown bark of the tree, but it gave way beneath his fingers. The bark caved and molded around his frail hand, creating the perfect edge to grab.
He pulled himself upward, weightlessly ascending the ladder that formed beneath his fingertips. The climb is effortless, the growling of his stomach and aching muscles left behind on the surface. As he nears a branch that's too small to fit him, it blooms forward, growing just enough for him to grab onto.
Balancing himself, he prepares to begin climbing once more, only to stop and gaze at something etched into the thick skin of the tree. A strange shape, sharp but round, and with no apparent meaning. A soft silver glow emanated through carving, drawing the boy toward it. Still, the climb called to him more.
He resumed his journey up the tree, as it only felt to get easier as he continued. The dryness of his mouth had also disappeared, giving way to an excited smile plastered on the boy's face.
With no weight to stop him, he rises– unburdened and tireless, every step filled with excitement of reaching even higher. When he finds his foothold on the next branch, he realizes more symbols, similar to the one before. Their glow pulsates brighter, and while they still don't make sense, they seem to have some hidden meaning to them.
The curiosity he has in these symbols isn't enough to slow him down, as he wastes no time in pressing on. The tree continues to mold to his touch and its branches twisting– guiding him ever upward.
As he neared closer to the top, the stars begin to pierce through the mess of leaves, shining with the same silver light the symbols carried. Though, they do not seem to stay put. As fast as the boy ascends, the stars seem to be drifting down to meet him halfway.
With every step upward, the symbols' light burst through from deep beneath the bark. The pulses counting down the time until he reached the summit. Each flash revealed more of the symbol's meaning, illuminating the truth.
The more he understood, the closer the stars got. Just when the final branch was within arms reach, the stars swirled around him, embracing him in a loving warmth and giving him the final burst of height he needed to land on the highest branch of the tree. The symbols had been counting down this moment all along– not just marking the way, but revealing the truth as he became ready to understand it. As he landed, he tried to recall the pain in his stomach, the dryness of his mouth and the ache of his limbs but they were impossible to remember, like they were never real in the first place.
There were hundreds of stars still in the sky, rhythmically pulsating with light. A silver figure unlike the others began to descend with a hand outstretched, and in one explosion of light, it all made sense to him. These were no stars at all, they were guiding him; helping him find exactly what he was looking for. Her.
As the light faded, there was nothing left. No giant tree, no flashing lights, or symbols. All that was left, was a young, frail boy, curled up next to a tiny tree, breathless– and a star that shined brighter that night.