Lone Wendy: The Girl and the Forest of the Gods

by D E Dunn

  “Are you alright?” he asks

  “yeah, why?” I answer shaken

  “I read the report, It's not any sight for a kid”

  “And I'm a kid?” I question playfully

  We both smile.

  “we're next aren't we?” I ask after a minute of pause.

  “Probably” He states plainly.

  “are you ready?” I ask.

  “You're never ready for a battle, they just kind of happen”

  “not even with that? I tease him pointing to the pistol sticking out of his vest.

  “no” he sighs as he tucks it away.

  “Where did you get a gun anyway, I thought they were illegal”

  He grabs my shoulder and leans in “I looted it, and they are illegal, so don't tell anyone” He gives me a Stern gaze.

  “so what are we going to do?” I ask

  He looks at his feet, taking a rigid pose, “go home Wendy”

  “I just want to help!” I reply feeling shunned.

  He shakes his head and begins to walk away.

  “I'm leaving!” I blurt out - “you're not going to see me for awhile”

  He stops, turning back towards me. “Wendy, you're not going” he says with a fatherly tone.

  “I am!” I scream out.

  “No you're not” He tilts his head imposing himself over me.

  “Why not?” I ask as I stare directly into his eyes.

  “because it's dangerous-”

  “so what?” I interrupt

  “...and stupid” he continues flatly.

  I feel my face washing over with disappointment, a crutch kicked out from under me. “if anyone understood, I thought it would be you”

  “I do” – he says as he pulls an ornate dagger from his vest

  “This dagger is among the best made in the world. It was given to me for serving with excellence in the royal guard by the king himself” - he hands it to me.

  I grasp it unsurely at first, but sliding it out of its sheath, the power of it hums through me and I feel a certain physical memory take hold. A confidence building. I've always felt right with a weapon in my hand, I can't say why.

  “Consider that your anchor.”

  “What?” I ask inquisitively.

  “A reason to stay. If you want to help, join the guards, be a warrior.”

  I snicker at the thought – “they would never let a girl join the guards.”

  “'They' might not even exist anymore, and the town counsel will do what I say”

  “I can't even fight”

  “You can, a little training and you'd be worth ten guards. You could even be better than me...”

  I smile at the compliment and fall into him with a hug. As he wraps his arms around me I can feel his joy. But my body shivers, a coldness growing within me, I'm leaving and I don't want to hurt him. I know he feels it as his grip loosens, the feeling of joy fading.

  “you're not going to stay, are you?” he asks coldly.

  I shake my head as I pull away. We gaze at each other blank and speechless for a moment, before I gesture handing him back the dagger.

  “Keep it, just think about it OK.”

  I can feel his pain, disappointment. “goodbye” I say with a half smile.

  “Not goodbye, I'll see you again.” - he says as I turn and walk away.

  “If your mom finds that dagger!”, he yells behind me, “you stole it!”

  Journal

  “you can't go!” my mom ekes out in worry, “it's dangerous, you'll die!”

  The common rhetoric.

  “it's dangerous” one will say.

  “you're too young” another will flap.

  As I gaze upon them, eyes wanting, with a young smile, disbelieving 'whatever' they say.

  I won't die. I feel I can't.

  Yet that is just the beginning of the worry, no mention of the end.

  It's not my worry but my journey that concerns me.

  One day soon I will tame a God, and laugh at them for ever doubting me.

  -Wendy

  Part 3

  Hurt

  I sit at the edge of the big bay window in the lounge area of the labor house, no one here but me, alone in the dark. I stare into the vast dimensions of the black and grey forest, and huff to myself in pity.

  The big town meeting was tonight. I went and sat there quietly as the worried citizens droned on about nothing. Village life, gossip, and plans to fix up this and that. I wanted to discuss our impending doom, but no one seemed willing. Wil wasn't even there like he was supposed to be, he was out on night patrol.

  Finally I couldn't take it anymore, slowing rising as my mom tried to make me sit back down. I was polite at first trying to get their attention and say my peace, but they ignored me. Anger building, I had had it with all of them.

  “Her fingers singed and bleeding!” I screamed as loud as I could, everyone staring shocked at me. “Her throat was cut, eyes rolled back into her head, her clothes tattered, tossed dead like meat with everyone else in the town as it burned!”

  “Did you see it?” I asked as I tried to calm myself. “it haunts my dreams, and it's coming for all of us.”

  It was the best possible way to start the discussion. I had everyone’s attention at that point, everyone’s angry attention. I tried to continue in a more reasonable fashion when I was asked if I was finished. The hall silent as the grave accept for the gossip about me, everyone's eyes glaring, my mom holding her head down in shame. It was a stuffy chamber full of nosy busy bodies, complainers, and monotonous old men.

  I wasn't finished, I went on, about readying the guard, allying the rebellion, and finding the God Slayer. A mythical shard rumored to have the power to control the Gods. I read about it in an ancient looking book in the back of the library. A remnant artifact that could bow the Gods to the will of its user. I've planned to go find it ever since. Mentioning it to such an audience though, proved to be my most fatal mistake.

  Just about everyone laughed as I stood there. When they composed themselves, Duke and the other town leaders couldn't help but make fun of me, while the others in the room looked crooked at me.

  It was no place for dreamers. It's a town of unreasonable people set in their ways.

  I looked around, most looked away, others looked upon me with disdain.

  I was alone there. At that point I could have either screamed like a fool, yelling at useless people, sat and surrendered myself, or stormed out like a child. I chose the latter, the best of three bad options.

  Staring into the dark world now I can't help but hate everyone, and want to run into the woods forever. But what good would that do? So I just sit here simmering, until I see the shadow of my mom coming through the darkness. I hear the door slam hard, and I know I'm in for it.

  She confronts me, we argue, she cries. And then the deadening question - "WHY? Why do you want to go?" The question asked in a tone as if I hated her, and was in a hurry to leave. But in that moment I could see it. My town burned, house sacked, the bodies splayed out before me, with that stare into nothingness look upon them, dead on the floor.

  I muster all I have to give this as my reason, but it hurts. To see my mom broken into tears already, I just feel myself fighting back the tears as well. I hold my tongue, and stare like an impudent child. All too aware of the dumb look on my face.

  We hug, I apologize, swear up and down that I won't go, and the night ends. Laying in bed, I hate her, I hate myself. I feel like every option is pain. That I can't do anything, and certainly nothing right. I feel terrible, for making her cry. But worse, I know I'll do it again. For all I said, for all I swore, it meant nothing.

  I meant none of it.

  My mom, the one person in the world I shouldn't lie to the most, and I do it every day. Bidding my time, until I can finally find courage against my tears.

  Chapter 2

  Steps

  Season – Late Summer

  Rough hands shaking as a rustic
pack heavy with memory passes to another.

  Standing close, though feeling distant. Similar fires burning in the night. Lips begging to part, but better left with thoughts unspoken.

  Dark eyes gaze deeply with a sorry glow, and part quickly in fear – farewell.

  Part 1

  Leaving

  The morning broke as soft as gentle rain, and my heart fluttered in my chest. It was a big day, and I was the only one to know. I could hear the sounds of a home waking, people greeting, pots clanging, readying for the day. I was already prepared, dressed, packed. Mom greeted me like usual, I walked straight past her, “goodbye”, I muttered as I flew out of the door, like a deer fleeing the hunt. My mother ran after me for as long as her legs could carry her. I saw her fallen to her knees as I slowed and glanced over my shoulder. She was wailing and begging me not to leave.

  When I reached the town, the people were all out as I walked through the street, an expression on their faces as though they'd seen a ghost. Some jeered and shouted at me, something about being stupid, or a fool. I wasn't quite sure. I could barely hear them over the booming thoughts of my unquiet mind. My heartbeat, competing with the ring in my ears. I felt numb with excitement, with fear, and sadness. I walked on in a daze for hours, with a sickly feeling as the symptoms slowly faded. My first steps into the unknown.

  ***

  The sun shines on my face through the trees, the wind greeting me as I go on. I feel a euphoria stemming from my freedom. It feels good to make my own decisions, to leave without the approval of anyone. Though, it does hurt. I can't help but feel this tightness in my gut, a voice deep within me screaming to turn around. I do my best to ignore it, but it's still there.

  'What am I doing out here?' It asks. Reassuring myself that I’m making the right decision I go through the process. Follow this road south until it ends, then southwest through the forest to the shard. A simple journey, I bubble again as I think about it. And then home, a single tear falls from my eye. Breakfast smelled good this morning, I’m sure I’ll taste it again. Of course I will, and many others. I picture my mothers smiling face as I return, repressing the image of her fallen.

  I see a tunnel of trees ahead, one side in the suns shadow, the other alight and vibrant. The forest sure is a beautiful sight.

  Later in the evening I stop for the night under an old tree atop a tall hill. The long grass swept by the breeze, a cool wind blowing through the warm wet summer air. Soothed to sleep beneath a cotton sky. My fears lulled by hope, and drowned out by excitement and ambition. My worries suppressed by a choir of birds, crickets, and frogs.

  The God Slayer

  It's said that long ago, the Gods fell here from the sky. That they were trapped within an artifact, and left to travel the heavens forever. Only when this artifact crashed here were they released. Most of the artifact was vaporized, but it is rumored that a part of it remains. Historians dubbed this piece, “The God Slayer”, a fragment that binds them, a way to control them. A silly myth some would say. From time antiquated, and immemorable. But the fact is, that the Gods are closing in on us, filled with anger, and lusting for vengeance. It may seem silly, stupid even, to go hunting for a rumored rock. But what man alone, can stand against a God?

  Part 2

  One of those days

  The haunting eye stares intently, as the giant rumbles forth. Blue skies turn to grey, its form lit up by forked tongue flashing. Wind sweeping in majestic flow. The trees and grasses gracefully bowing in its path. I have always known summer storms a beautiful thing. But out in the open, with no house to go to, no place to hide, I feel a tinge of fear from it. An uncertainty. I still wish to enjoy it, but find myself wrapped up searching for a place to weather the storm.

  ***

  A peaceful, if not equally fearful evening has found me. The storm turned out to be nothing more than bustle and blow. Its wind left behind as I try to find myself a safe and sheltered place to sleep for the night.

  ***

  The night is exceptionally dark. The wind tears through the forest, and the trees pound together. Their branches grating against one another in shrill screeches and screams. I swear I can hear voices.

  My mind running amok. Shivering, eyes darting back and forth, wide in terror. I clench my blanket tighter, and try my best to sink into the earth.

  ***

  The dark day greeted me with a splash to the face. After finally settling into a wrestles sleep, the morning broke with hard rain. A down pour, with wind shears that wrestle to remove you from your feet. I slog through the muddy paths, blinded by the wall of water over me. Soaked and slipping, this is some kind of day. I start to mutter “how could this be any worse” but catch myself, lest I get unluckier. However, as I stumble, and stare into the gushing void, I’m reassured, the very thought of worse luck brings it, no need for words.

  A raging river with a steep bank lays before me as I lose my footing, skiing to my doom. I slide helpless, and wholly confused into the turbulent waters below. As I splash into the river the freezing wet shakes me from any remaining shock I might have, and I panic, grasping for everything as the world flies by blindingly. Tumbling, bobbing, and smacking into everything possible, I continue down its path. Finally landing face first into a dislodged root, I count my smooshed face lucky, and hold on for dear life. Fighting against the current pulling at my legs, I make my way up the slick root and fall into the mud with joy. Only later to find my pack half empty.

  Elm

  Before the northern settlers came, the whole continent of Elm was ruled by the Gods and their druid followers. When the settlers landed and founded their kingdoms, they took the sparsely populated northwestern territories. Later, Valasian expansion and conquest pushed the Gods and their lands back behind the machine barriers and contained them in what is now called, The Forest of the Gods.

  The Forest of the Gods stretches from the middle of the northern continent all the way east to the sea. And from the northern sea south for many miles past where the maps end. No one knows just how large the continent is, but it's estimated that only one fifth is colonized by man. The rest belongs to the Gods.

  There are eleven human kingdoms in Elm. With Valasia being the furthest west, and Reon, my kingdom, being the furthest east. And the most surrounded by the Gods forest.

  My kingdom is one of the youngest, created by the machinists to govern the fleeing druid peoples. As such, the kingdom is a strange mix of superstitious natives crash course cultured in western ways. A strange and ill fitting collection of peoples constantly reminded that we are just tokens dominated by Valasia and their machine God.

  Part 3

  So Little

  It's been days. I lost all of my camping gear, and most of my food. My strength is waning. I'm hungry, and slightly sick. But press on.

  To my surprise I see a cabin in the distance. It's probably abandoned, but worth a shot. I cautiously approach and knock on the door gently, ready to run if the wrong person opens it.