by V F Sharp
“Oh, there it is,” she said. “It fell in that really thick bush over there.” She winced as she saw the immense size of the thorny shrub. “Of course it did.” She wondered why it couldn’t have fallen in a place where she could’ve just easily grabbed it.
She dismounted when she got to the bush and allowed Tia to feed on the grass.
It was at this moment when Ezstasia noticed how mysterious this forest was. Nothing looked normal. Its beauty was breathtaking, and yet parts of it looked oddly out of place—and certainly not natural. Just then, a soft breeze in the distance whistled quietly and eerily. She could feel the fine hairs on her arms standing up.
“Why does this place seem so creepy now?” she said to Tia.
Tia began to shimmy a little further away toward a small bush brimming with purple berries. Ezstasia had barely noticed her, as she had been mesmerized by the forest. The bright flowers and berries seemed oddly out of place in the midst of the endless, winding vines and the giant tree trunks that spread out into ghostly formations. There were areas of shadowy darkness that were oddly punctuated by brighter patches, with lush green foliage that formed natural archways in different directions. Dark turned into light and light turned into dark, as if death and life were intertwined.
“I can’t decide if this place looks enchanted or haunted.” Indeed, it resembled her most beautiful dreams and her darkest nightmares.
Ezstasia stood still, slowly gazing around at the forest that now surrounded her. The ground below her feet was dark and slightly damp, and she noticed a soft, thin mist of steam delicately and slowly rising from it. Had it been there the whole time? She wasn’t sure.
She walked under a vined archway until she came to a moss-covered area surrounded by a variety of bushes and trees with no commonality whatsoever. Many of the trees looked dead, but next to them were trees which were lush and full of leaves. She noticed some of the bushes were scraggly and full of thorns, while others were green and thick, with small, bell-shaped red and purple berries.
Her curiosity piqued, she proceeded to another clearing that was much larger and her mouth dropped. There were endless shades of green all around her. The moss that covered most of the ground was a bright green—the brightest she had ever seen—punctuated by the darker grass that grew in large tufts throughout.
As she looked closer at some of the surrounding trees, she marveled at the sheer size of some of the trunks, many which ran together, forming a thick base. As they rose higher, they resembled snakes, twisting around one another all the way to the top. It looked like each one was trying to be higher than the previous one.
She noticed three other trees that looked like giant arms were coming out of the ground. The top of each tree was shaped like a hand with the palm facing upward. Each palm had several finger-like branches that seemed to extend out in different directions as if to grab the nearest prey. The trees had no leaves at all and appeared dead except for the odd patches of moss that traveled up the trunk and on each ‘finger.’
She walked further and came upon a couple of the largest trees yet. They stood majestically, as if they were the grandfathers of all trees. They were the width of several cottages and extended up so high they seemed to reach the clouds. She felt so small, she half expected one of them to just step out of its roots and crush her. These trees, too, had snake-like roots twisting from the ground all the way up the trunk, as far as she could see. The climbing roots clung to the tree like parasites that had no fear of anything or anyone, for they knew who they grew on. Indeed, these majestic trees, beautiful yet imposing, were to be revered and respected. The roots knew it, and she knew it, too.
She turned briefly to look for Tia and noticed something else she hadn’t seen before—a misty blue fog off in the distance. As she looked around, she could see between the trees that it surrounded the forest in all directions. She couldn’t tell whether her eyes were playing tricks or if the blue mist had actually created shapes that looked like thousands upon thousands of dancing silhouettes around her. As she walked, she noticed the silhouettes always kept the same distance from her.
Between the strange trees, the blue mist, and the visions of dancing figures—as beautiful as it was, this perplexing forest had begun to flood her senses. She was beginning to feel nervous and anxious. Besides, she had to get back to the open field. The others must be waiting for her by now.
“Tia! Tia, where are you?”
She was so wrapped up in the forest that she had nearly forgotten about her rabbit. Worse yet, she wasn’t even sure what direction she was facing now. Just as she started experiencing a feeling of panic inside her chest, she heard a rustling of leaves behind her. She turned around quickly and looked through another moss-covered archway of vines. She could make out a familiar figure up ahead.
“Tia, there you are!”
She walked through the archway, and that’s when her heart nearly stopped. She saw a handful of trees that simply gave her chills. The trees were almost completely black, and looked like the harbinger of death itself—or worse yet, the thing that you send to scare the harbinger of death. Almost immediately, she felt a solitary, cool wind blow right through her, which made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She felt as if these particular trees were sucking the life out of her just by looking at them. She was frozen. They were big, for sure, though not like the majestic ones. No, these trees were intimidating in an entirely different way. They had a dark presence about them, even more so than any of the other trees she’d seen.
Though Ezstasia wanted to back away, she remained still as a rock, studying the trees in more detail. The different sized roots came up from random spots in the ground, without design or formation. They were all entangled, almost as if they were lost or rebellious, refusing to grow how they were designed to.
Some roots grabbed onto others, as if fighting to kill, fighting for breath, fighting for power, as they climbed over one another all the way up the tree. Others remained separate and alone, each one standing straight up from the ground with a perfectly vertical posture and a point like a dagger. The branches that grew atop the trees also came to a sharp point, as if each tree had an assortment of knives and swords at its disposal to ward off any visitors. And it must have worked, because there wasn’t a single sign of green life—or any color for that matter—growing on it or near it. Even the grass kept its distance. Maybe she should, too.
Indeed, these trees instilled a fear that was different than what the majestic ones conjured. There was a sense of the darkest of forces being entwined and harbored in these trees. Ezstasia felt in the depths of her soul as if nothing but pure evil lived there.
A shuffling sound nearby brought her out of her stupor. She turned to see Tia’s reins dragging on the ground as the oblivious rabbit stopped at each bush to graze for berries. Ezstasia picked up the reins and climbed up onto Tia.
“It’s time to go, girl. This place is starting to freak me out. We need to leave. Now.”
Heading back, as she passed one of the bushes, she spotted a small sparkle of colored, twinkling magic—no doubt from her arrow.
“The arrow! How could I forget that? If anyone found that arrow, we’d be in serious trouble.” She briefly thought about the danger of anyone finding the arrow with the residue of forbidden magic, and the consequences that would follow for her and her friends.
She jumped off of Tia and ran toward the bush, not wanting to spend another moment in this forest. Just as she was about to kneel down and reach into the thick brush for it, she saw something moving out of the corner of her eye. As she turned toward it, she could have sworn that she saw one of the black, dagger-shaped roots move. It was pointed right toward her and was connected to one of the largest of the black trees. She was positive that it hadn’t been facing in her direction before.
Ezstasia felt her heart pounding in her throat. The chills that ran down her spine before were now permeating her entire body. She felt paralyzed with fear. Unable to
move, she stood there like a statue, listening to the sounds around her—her senses now elevated. She could hear the slight breeze whistling in her ear, the gentle rustling of the leaves, the songs the long grass made as it gently swayed—and then she heard something chewing close by. She turned to see Tia up ahead, chewing on more berries.
Tia looked up at her, tufts of greens hanging out the sides of her mouth. She stopped chewing as she stared at Ezstasia, almost as if she was confused by Ezstasia’s mannerisms and could sense her fear. Then she resumed her normal rabbit duties and continued chewing as she searched for more berries.
Just then, Ezstasia heard a branch crack from behind her. She didn’t even look to see what it was. She bolted toward Tia as fast as she could.
“Forget that arrow! We’re getting out of here now!”
She leapt onto Tia. She wasn’t about to waste another second in this place.
“Let’s go! Hurry!”
She was about to grab the reins when Tia darted forward. She could have sworn something grabbed her foot at the same time, but it all happened too fast. As the rabbit sped off, she tumbled backward. The next thing she knew, her head hit the ground hard. Really hard. Her head began to throb. She thought she heard Tia’s footsteps racing off into the distance, and then everything became foggy. She heard branches cracking nearby, and then her vision slowly faded to black.
CHAPTER TWO
Fin couldn’t wait to see everyone’s reactions when they would come to find out that he was the first to grab his arrow. His friends were always amazed that he managed to pull off victory after victory, no matter how challenging it seemed. He loved the praise. It made the cuts and scars he had received while playing all worth it. Truth be told, he even impressed himself, and he was a hard one to impress. He kept replaying the picture of his winning grab over and over again in his mind as he began to slowly ride Zon back through the dense forest.
He saw the bright sunlight through the cracks of the trees, and caught a glimpse of the familiar field up ahead, its green grass glistening. “Good,” he thought. He was almost at the pasture. Fin dismounted and decided to give Zon a well-deserved rest. He held Zon’s reins as he walked beside him.
“I can’t wait to see their faces, Zon! It’s been a while, my friend.” He lifted the arrow up in victory again. “Just remember, today is our day, you and me. When we’re together, nobody can—”
He stopped mid-sentence. He noticed a weird movement at the top of one of the trees up ahead. Two small vines that climbed up the tree seemed to extend out in a quick jolt, twisting around one another.
“Did you see that?”
He pulled the reins for Zon to stop as he gazed up at the tree. Nothing up in the tree was moving now. Not only that, but he couldn’t even find the twisted vine he had seen, no matter which angle that he looked from.
“I could’ve sworn I just saw vines or a branch moving,” he said aloud to himself. “Strange.”
He stared at the vines and branches for a moment and then glanced over at Zon, who was standing there looking like he was waiting for a treat—a rabbit’s priorities, as it were. With no treat forthcoming, Zon began searching for something to munch on in the nearby greenery.
“You know, Zon—I really wish you could talk.” The rabbit looked up at him again, as if he knew he was being addressed.
“Hey don’t look at me like that. I’m already seeing things, so why not a talking giant, one-eyed bunny?”
He took one last gaze up at the tree and then shrugged his shoulders.
“Ha! I’m definitely seeing things. Let’s go Zon. It was probably a squirrel.” Fin mounted back up onto Zon and steered him toward the sunlit, open green pasture.
He was halfway toward the middle of the field where the game had started when he looked around and saw the other riders emerging. Some had their arrows on their backs, some had them in their hands, and some had them tied to their rabbit’s saddle. He couldn’t stop grinning as he held up his arrow to show everyone. He felt like one of the great knights from the scrolls.
When he got to the center of the pasture, he stopped, dismounted and waited for the others to catch up. He was mentally preparing his victory speech when he noticed that two riders were missing.
One by one, he looked at each of his friends’ faces as they got closer. Everyone was there except for Ezstasia and Meldon. Knowing Meldon, he was probably still somewhere calculating exactly how he lost. But Ezstasia should have been back by now. He’d seen her enter the forest just before he did. Besides, her rabbit, Tia, was one of the fastest. Oh well, they would turn up sooner or later.
* * * *
Meldon couldn’t find the arrow he was chasing, even with his new wide-view glasses, which he had specifically constructed for this game. He thought he saw it land in a section of the tall grass. In fact, he was sure of it. But now that he was looking there, it was nowhere to be found.
He scanned the area but to no avail. The fact that the arrow wasn’t exactly where he was sure to have seen it land, was defying logic, and this made him extremely nervous and frustrated. He was an over-analyzer by nature, and he always liked to consider every possibility. As usual, he had tried to warn everyone about the risks of playing Arrows.
Some people liked adventure, but to Meldon, if there wasn’t adequate planning, it meant foolishly taking risks. Well, this was the last time he would do that. Of course, he’s said that at least three times before, but this time, he meant it.
After looking a few more minutes, he decided to dismount his rabbit, Mr. Feet, a name he’d chosen because of the bunny’s extra-large feet—appendages that were massive even by giant rabbit standards. He wrapped Mr. Feet’s reins around a branch from one of the tall bushes. Reaching into the bag on the rabbit’s saddle, he pulled out the can that had the word water etched onto the side of it. He had marked the canister to differentiate it from the can of hydrated lime and hemlock root he’d concocted, just in case anyone got hurt. Scanning the ground, he spotted a perfect piece of fallen bark that could be used as a water saucer. The sides from the bark were slightly lifted, so it no doubt came from a knot in the tree’s trunk. He brushed all the dirt and leaves out of it with his hand and placed it on the ground, filling it with some of the water from his can.
“Drink up while I find that arrow, Mr. Feet.”
He reached in the bag again and pulled out two carrots with the greens still attached, just as he and Mr. Feet liked. Everyone had always teased Meldon for how well he organized his bag, but that’s just how he preferred to operate. Each time, he would take pleasure in telling them, “I only know one way to do something. The right way. And that means proper planning.” Fin would then roll his eyes, but, as strong and heroic as he was, he’d still listen. Even Fin had to give him some credit. He was usually right.
Content with his organizational skills, Meldon held the two carrots next to one another and examined them.
“Here, you can have the bigger one,” he said. “You rode well. But we can’t always win, can we? No, we can’t. I always tell you that. But we would sure beat them all in Kingsman’s Chess now, wouldn’t we?”
He placed Mr. Feet’s carrot right by his saucer of water and kept the smaller one for himself. Munching the carrot, he began to look around for his arrow. He examined the surrounding bushes, looked on the sides of some nearby fallen trees, and trudged through all the tall grass in the area. There was still no sign of the arrow.
One thing he hadn’t noticed before, though, was just how unusually beautiful this forest was. A tremendous variety of plants, with varying levels of intense greens and bursting with flowers of every shape and color, were scattered as far as he could see. The colors were more vibrant than any he had ever seen, even more than in Mr. Codsworth’s garden—which, incidentally, everyone paid good money to see. As he looked up, several thick vines cascaded down and looked as if they were hanging from the sky, ready to be swung on.
“Sweet carrot sticks, will you look
at all this! I am actually glad that I haven’t found the arrow, Mr. Feet. Otherwise, I might never have had the chance to see such beauty. It’s exquisite! And a child’s dream, I might add. Those vines would be a delight to swing on. Well, not by me. By someone else of course. And I don’t mind saying, without some sort of stability check, whoever that someone is would be asking to hit the ground like a melon. Ew. No, thanks.”
Just as he was contently devouring the last piece of his carrot, something caught his eye. A blue mist rose in the distance. When he squinted his eyes, it appeared to contain dancing shadows of something—or someone.
“Astounding! That fog looks like human silhouettes.”
He stared at the mist more intently, trying to make out what it could be.
“You know, Mr. Feet. If I hadn’t been privy to the ancient stories of powerful magic—especially the… well, you know which I speak of, I dare not even say it. But if I didn’t know about all of that magic having been seized many years ago, I’d say this place may have had some very strong magic placed upon it.”
He stood there a few moments longer, staring at the distant fog. It was mesmerizing to watch the smoky silhouettes slowly dancing, swaying from side to side—each one vanishing to make room for another to appear. This was one beautiful, ghostly dance.
“There must be hundreds, or possibly thousands, of silhouettes all around us. It’s strange, they keep disappearing and reappearing every second. It’s like we’re surrounded by a massive army of… fog soldiers.”
That made him think of something.
“You know what this reminds me of? It makes me think of cumulonimbus clouds which continuously form a shape, and then another, as—”
He realized Mr. Feet was paying no attention, he was too busy munching on the remaining piece of his carrot.