The Forest
by Lady CaerenEmail: Caeren@aol.com
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Arlahna ran. She was finally free of the jail and the forest was calling.
The trees whispered in her blood, crying out to her to come. “Come back to
us!
Come back to us!” they screamed silently. Arlahna had always been drawn to the forest. Everyone in Aniste and beyond said it was haunted. Those who even thought of entering Gilden Wood were immediately restrained and carried away to Harlavan, twelve leagues to the east, and to the Asylum for treatment. It wasn’t considered sane to go to the forest. This had almost happened to her this very afternoon. From the beginning she was cautious never to let anyone know where she went to play. All the other children shunned her for no good reason. “Crazy Arlahna! Crazy Arlahna!” they would tease. At some points in her life she would have agreed with them. But she was never crazy exactly. Other’s had just always marked her for a strange one. Even her parents and siblings. Arlahna kept running. She dared not stop. The villagers were close on her heels, carrying torches that unbeknownst to them, lighted her way. The quivering light bounced off the trees just a few more feet ahead. She leapt and disappeared into the night filled forest. She sat behind a large bush a few feet from the border and rested. No one would dare enter Gilden Wood, especially at night. Their fears wouldn’t let them. She was safe. Lying down beneath a tree, she waited and listened to the music of the forest. She didn’t have to wait long. Cyvan called out her name. Cyvan had been her friend ever since she and Arlahna had met, nearly eight years ago. She had silver hair that always sparkled when the sun hit it through the trees. Her green-brown eyes were always shining with mischief. Arlahna recalled their first meeting. It was almost midsummer and the sun was shining hotly. Too hot for her ten year old body. She had been shooed outside by the house keeper since she was always getting in the way. The closest shade was the small park near the Hawthorne Tree. The villagers lovingly called this spot the village square. Every bench was taken that day and filled with people, fanning themselves to stay cool, even under the shade of the great tree. The stores hadn’t received any new merchandise for a while so there was no point in going in. The only place left was the forest. Everyone said it was evil, that monsters and demons lived there, but Arlahna had never believed the stories. She had wandered over there, on occasion, to peak between the brush and branches, even venture forth if she had the time. Never had she seen anything remotely resembling a demon, except perhaps the occasional spider. This day she had decided to risk the journey again. Arlahna covered her tracks well by winding her way through the village, turning right here and left there, so that everyone might think she was just out for another one of her supposed walks. But this time she ran into a group of the village boys playing a chasing game. She had to stop to find a way around without being noticed, but it was too late. The chaser had spotted her. “You’re it!” he yelled as he hit her on the shoulder, hard, and ran off. “Ow!! Leave me alone!!” she screamed as loud as she possibly could. Tears brimmed in her eyes and she rubbed her shoulder. “Oh, it’s only Arlahna. We don’t want her playing with us, anyway, do we boys?” said one of the leaders of the group. They laughed. A tear found its way down her rosy cheek. “Awh, is the poor little baby crying?” he taunted. They all laughed again. By this time all the boys had encircled her. She tried to break free, running for a gap as more tears dripped down from her eyes, but two of the biggest boys grabbed her arms and held her fast. The first boy, Stelan, at age twelve he was the oldest and strongest of them all, stood in front of her. His long, dark hair and almost black eyes gave off a menacing effect. His smile glowered just above her like a thunderstorm. Arlahna trembled with fear. Stelan had never gone this far before. Usually he just slapped her around a bit, always leaving an opening for escape, if it could be found. Another tear found its way down her cheek and dropped off her chin. “My father was especially hard with me yesterday, and you couldn’t be found. That means you’re in trouble, Arlahna.” he said menacingly and softly at the same time. He hit her hard, square on the jaw. Pain shot through her tears as she screamed for help. But no one willing was around. They were all upon her now, punching and wrenching, till she finally burst. It was an extremely strange feeling, not at all discomforting. The pain was there, and then suddenly, it was gone. It was like she was on a different plane of existence. Her eyes closed and her body went limp. Thought escaped her. Except for one. ‘I must get to Gilden Wood and nothing will stand in my way.’ The boys stopped their pounding and stared at Arlahna, thinking they had somehow killed her. Her body was now marred with cuts and bruises from the boy’s fists. Slowly, they began to disappear and fade away. One by one. She was lying on the ground now as the boys stared in disbelief. Arlahna slowly rose above the ground as if someone had their hand beneath the small of her back. Her head flung back towards the earth and her limbs dangled down. The boys continued to stare, except for a cowardly few who turned on their heels and ran back to the village square. Arlahna rose higher, then started to rotate so it looked like she was standing on air. Her eyes flashed open, a pure white light shone from her once green eyes. Her red hair seemed to crackle like a fire in a hearth. Her mouth opened and words flowed out in an unearthly voice, “Let me pass.” She didn’t say it loud, but the sounds echoed in the boys ears as though she had. They ran, in the same direction as the others. Except Stelan. He stayed behind and continued to stare as his once scapegoat floated over to him to look up into his eyes and say, “Do not fear your father. The next time he becomes drunk, give him this.” She held out her hand and in a flash of light a small, blue bottle appeared. It was corked. “Do not open this until it is needed. At the proper time, uncork the bottle and force him to drink it. This will solve your father’s drinking problem. But remember, in payment, I require you to promise that if I ever need your help, you will agree without hesitation or question.” Staring at her in awe he promised and took the bottle from her outstretched hand. With that, she floated on. A minute passed. Two. As she rounded the corner, Arlahna suddenly doubled over with intense pain. Her voice was stifled and she was unable to cry for help or even scream in agony Stelan couldn’t see her. He had already left. Arlahna painfully reverted back to herself. She fell to the ground, a quivering mess of sobs and tears and as weak as a newborn kitten, but getting stronger. As soon as she was able, she lifted herself off the ground and ran in the direction of the Wood, her one driving thought through the entire ordeal. On she ran till she reached its border. Arlahna stopped, looked around and plunged into the underbrush. The trees were tall and beautiful today. The sun was streaming down through the canopy to hit the flowers and plants with its golden rays. Arlahna walked through the leafy branches and underbrush, her eyes red from crying and more tears threatening to fall. After following a path in her mind for nearly half an hour, she came upon her special spot. This was the most beautiful place she had found in her limited travels. A babbling brook wound its way through her make-believe palace over smooth rocks and little frogs peeked their tiny heads above the surface. The frogs were her friends and she confided in them all her troubles. They were good listeners and never made a sound till she was finished. Her favorite was the Frog Prince she had named Prymen, after her late beloved grandfather. He was the biggest frog in the brook and was always the first to notice distress in her young face. It was no different this time. There he was, sitting on his usual rock in the middle of the water, staring at her. He immediately jumped into the water and swam over to her as she sat down beneath her favorite tree. All the others followed. When all the frogs were present, there were about a dozen, she began her story. It wasn’t very long, but very emotionally draining for her. By the end of the story, she was in tears again, a flood running down her face. She was scared and unsure why all this had happened. There were going to be tales tonight when she came home. ‘What will happen to me?’, she wondered. Arlahna shuddered. She didn’t want to think about it. The frogs croaked in comforting tones. She always loved to hear their song. It was like magic, the sound making her relax. But something was different this time. Prince Prymen had sent one of his frogs away. Was her imagination playing tricks, again? She counted the frogs, just to make sure. Eleven. One was missing. “Your Highness! One of your subjects is missing,” she told her friend. The Frog Prince seemed unworried. Perhaps her imagination hadn’t been playing tricks again. She was thinking about what might have happened when, all of a sudden, there came a crack seemingly as loud as thunder. Arlahna started with a jolt, immediately rising to her feet. Looking around, she couldn’t see anything. Until a flash of sunlight revealed silver hair. Arlahna stared. There was a girl, perhaps her own height and age, with silver hair standing just on the other side of the brook, blending in with the bushes. As she realized that she had been spotted, she slowly moved from the cover of the foliage into the small clearing. She was wearing a green leather outfit with brown shoes and a brown belt, also made of leather. Her hair fell to her waist, straight. She carried a bow and a quiver of arrows. tied to her belt were pouches, about three of them. But the most amazing thing about her was her face. Her eyes were almond shaped. Her mouth was small, her lips thin, and her ears were pointed on the top. Arlahna gasped. She knew what she saw from the pictures painted in her mind from stories told around a hearth fire in midwinter. An elf. A real, live elf. Never in her life had she even thought that she would behold such a creature, left over from the days of Faerie. After a few minutes of just standing there, she realized she was staring and lowered her eyes. The girl spoke. “Hello,” she said in a silvery voice. “Uh...Hello,” Arlahna replied, hesitating a little in awe. She introduced herself as Cyvan Llewven. Her family lived about two leagues from here in the elven capital of Sharanlanon. This was her seventh time out hunting by herself past the river Stanbaroch. It was that first time that she had first spotted Arlahna coming to the glen. Cyvan had watched for a time as she spilled her troubles to the frogs and pretended she was a queen, the big frog, her son, and the glen her palace. She had heard of her problems with the village boy, Stelan, and the other villagers. She had longed to go to her and comfort her, but instinct had held her back. Elves were not permitted to associate with humans, unless circumstances dictated otherwise. Cyvan hadn’t been listening today as she often did. She had been nearby, but had stayed away for reasons all her own. The frog had come to get her. Apparently something had happened to create an opportunity for the two to meet. “What happened?” Cyvan asked. Arlahna told her, seeing in her a friend that wouldn’t put her down and that she could confide in. The story spilled out once more, accompanied by fresh tears. Cyvan was spell-bound. “I know what has happened, Arlahna. You have latent magic in you that has finally pushed itself out, angered at what was happening. It created this change as a means of protecting you. In giving Stelan the bottle you saved yourself from more torment. Perhaps even created a friend in him. But magic in a human is rare. It is a great gift, however scary.” Cyvan told her. It was Arlahna’s turn to be spell-bound. She looked away, lost in the possibility. “Do you really think so? Magic...me? How is that possible?” “I’m not sure. I’ve never met a human before.” “I’ve never met an elf before, either.” They smiled. That was the beginning. Their friendship blossomed from there. Before Arlahna left the clearing that day, Cyvan had shown her small feats of magic and even promised that no stories would be told by the boys who had seen her display this morning. Her secret would be safe with Stelan, Cyvan, and herself. Arlahna went home, safe in that knowledge and knowing she had a friend. Nothing happened as Cyvan had promised. But one thing did change. Stelan’s father had quickly acquired an intense dislike for anything alcoholic. He no longer beat his family and became well liked and respected by the community. Stelan never told a soul what happened, but from that day on, he never beat Arlahna again. Arlahna continued to meet Cyvan in the forest. After a year, she was finally allowed into Sharanlanon to meet Cyvan’s family. That had been one of the high points in her life. Cyvan had a rather small family, as elven families go, with only four brothers and three daughters, Cyvan being the youngest of the daughters. It was then that Arlahna fell in love for the first time. Cyvan’s brother Rejaln was exceptionally nice to her, and exceptionally handsome. There weren’t very many humans in the city. The few she saw were students of magic. She was brought before the Elders, the elven authority on magic. They saw her latent abilities immediately and took her for an apprentice on a special schedule, to accommodate her presence in the village. During the days that she could escape her village bonds and she was not required at the capital for schooling, Cyvan taught her how to hunt and move silently through the forest, without being seen. After getting her first kill, a male deer of enormous size, Cyvan’s family held a big celebration. Arlahna was given a present from Rejaln, an amulet said to bring luck to a hunter. Luck in getting the kill and luck in bringing the hunter back again. By this time, Arlahna was thirteen. She had become an adept at magic and in a few more years, she would achieve Master status. Her powerful magic responded at her call and stayed within her control, never waning and never failing. The Elders were extremely proud of their prize pupil. The years passed. As Arlahna grew, so did Cyvan. They called themselves sisters now. When together, they were inseparable. Her life in the village was almost non-existent now. Her absences disguised by her magic. In time, she began moving some of her things into Sharanlanon. She would even stay for days at a time. But a hard time was coming. Her final challenge to become a Master would have to be faced on her eighteenth birthday, and that was slowly, but surely, approaching. In the final days of her fifteenth year, Cyvan helped her sister to prepare. Arlahna worked her exercises and practiced endlessly. But nothing could prepare her for what her teachers asked of her as her final challenge. “Before we discuss your Final Test we would like you to consider something.” said one of the Elders. “You have spent much of your time these past eight years in the company of elves, learning and becoming a member of society in your own right. You have hunted with our best and brought back food enough to last us a long time. Your magic is no longer latent. You can use it to accomplish your goals and keep it within your control. And at such a young age also. Therefore we would like to consider a proposal made by a number of your friends and surrogate family. We would like you to join us, permanently.” Arlahna was overjoyed at this news and was prepare to answer when the speaker signaled her to wait. “There are two sides to this coin, however. You will never be permitted to go back to the village, except on the most extraneous of circumstances. You would never be allowed to see your own family again, Arlahna, or any friends there that you might have. “But, here, you would proceed with your studies in magic, this time as a Master, and be allowed to do whatever you may like as a respected and honored member of our community. You might even marry, if you had the inclination, one of the elven race. Or keep to the humans, perhaps, when looking for a life partner. That is your choice. “And even if you decide against our proposal, you will never be denied access to our city or Gilden Wood. You would come and go as you have in the past. You will never be denied anything that your status demands. But this offer will not always stand open to you. “We ask you to carefully consider this proposal. It is an important choice for your life.” The speaker finished and waited patiently for Arlahna to think over her decision. But it didn’t take long for Arlahna to answer. “I’ve decided to follow my heart on this choice, Elder. I would like to join your elven community.” she declared. Cyvan ran over to her and they embraced. Tears of joy were shed. The speaker cleared her throat. Arlahna and Cyvan immediately stopped and resumed their positions in the Hall of the Elders. “We have decided on your Final Test. It is not one of magic. It is one of courage. A Master must have the courage to face what comes their way. We ask you this: Go back to the village. Call the villagers together. Tell them about the past eight years of your life and what is to happen in your future. Tell them about us. Tell them that any open minded individual may come with you, here, to learn and to live in peace for the rest of their lives. Tell them the absolute truth. Magic is forbidden you for this, so do not try to rely on the easy way out. That is your task. Complete it and you shall be promoted. We shall be watching. Good luck.” Arlahna recoiled in horror. She knew what was waiting for her back in her village. She would be locked away and sent to Harlavan, where the asylum there would try to convince her that it was all some sort of dream, that she never believed it, and it never happened. She couldn’t live like that. But she had to reach her goal. She had to prove to the Elders that she could accomplish this. But this wasn’t only to convince the Elders, it was also to convince herself. So she had journeyed back, along the path that was so familiar she could walk it in her sleep. Cyvan was to meet her at the border towards midnight. If she did not show, Cyvan was to wait till dawn’s light then return empty handed. As soon as she stepped back onto the cobble streets she dropped her spell. They could all see her now, all wonder where she had gone, and what she was doing looking like she did in her elven garb. She headed straight for Stelan. He was seated on a bench near the Hawthorne Tree, deep in conversation with his father. As she approached, he went silent and stared. “I asked of you once that if I ever needed your help, you would without hesitation. This was in payment for something I gave you eight years ago. I need your help, Stelan.” Stelan rose. They were almost the same height. “Ask what you will of me, Arlahna.” he said as he looked directly into her eyes. “Get together the entire village, you and your father. There is something I must tell them. The time has come for truths. Tell them to meet me here as quickly as possible.” Stelan and his father left as soon as she had finished. So it began. Arlahna spoke in front of the thousand people that made up the village of Aniste. She spoke her truths. She told her captured audience about the last eight years of her life and how they changed her. She showed them her clothes and her bow and quiver of arrows that she had with her. She told them of Sharanlanon and the Elders. She spoke of Cyvan and her family. She told them about the proposal made just yesterday and how she had accepted. Finally she asked if anyone was willing to come with her, to learn and live in peace for the rest of their lives. Her answer was one she had expected. She was locked up in the jail, unable to use her magic to free herself. Guards had been placed at her door and from what she could here, more were outside the building. She laid down on the hard cot and cried. A sound from outside her cell woke her from her mourning. It was Stelan. “I came to free you, Arlahna. I was the only person in the village who believed you.” As he said this, he unlocked the door to her cell. As she left, she saw the guards slumped over, apparently knocked out. “As soon as you get out of the building, run for your life to Gilden Wood. I will meet you there as soon as I can. Leave some sort of mark for me so I know where you are.” Arlahna turned to leave, but Stelan stopped her. “Thank you, Arlahna. Thank you for everything.” “No, Stelan. Thank you for believing me and setting me free. I shall leave your mark. You’ll know it when you see it. Till then.” She walked out the door to the jail. Directly into the waiting arms of the guards. But she was too fast for them. She took off at a dead run. Arlahna walked over to Cyvan and embraced her. “Did you do what the Elder’s asked?” “Yes. And it ended almost like we had expected. But Stelan set me free of the jail and I’m here, now. He asked me to leave him a mark so he can find me as soon as he can get away. He wants to join the elves, Cyvan! Can you believe it? Stelan in Sharanlanon!” “That is wonderful, Arlahna! But what kind of mark will you leave for him?” “I have an idea.” They got to work immediately. As Stelan neared the Wood, the villagers were reentering the village. He thought of all he left behind and decided that he really had done the right thing. Aniste was too cramped for him. He wanted adventure and space. He was getting it. Only his father knew where he was going and he would never tell. To his peers, he had disappeared. The Wood was close now. He had never been so close before. All the old stories flickered in his mind, only briefly for he shoved them from his mind as soon as he saw Arlahna’s mark. There was a big “A” formed with leaves and twigs straight in front of him. Behind that he could see two pairs of eyes. They were both smiling. by Lady Caeren |
