The Untold Forest Elisa Menz (classic literature books .txt) 📖

on the massive gallery grew long as he advanced, the echo of his footsteps and the crackle of the fire breaking the silence. Dröm reached the center of the gallery, taking a deep breath.

“Father.”

If he hoped to find any answers, he soon realized he wouldn’t find them in darkness. The eerie quietness of the deep let him know once again, he stood on his own. Only he would carry the responsibility to keep his people safe.

He should go back to his people and give them the good news. They would try to reach the other tribes and make amends. Dröm repeated himself; he needed to be cautious and rational, but he couldn’t help to be excited, and a brief smile crept to his lips. He turned to head for the exit, but his legs wouldn’t respond.

The sudden stiffness caused him to trip and drop the torch, leaving him in complete darkness. He tugged and forced every muscle to move, to no avail. “What is this?” Despite himself, he panicked. “Help!” Dröm knew he was too far for anyone to hear, but the weird sensation crawled up his body. When his arms and chest constricted, he lost all sense of control and screamed his lungs out.

After a terrifying moment, his screams stopped, and the cave fell into silence.

Now, the battle thundered inside his mind.

Calm yourself, you idiot! You need to breathe and think! A handful of people would remember seeing him go down, so it was a matter of time before they found him.

He tried to move his body. Come on! Just a hand, a finger! But it was useless. He kept struggling for hours before giving up and relaxing his mind. Patience now, I need help. 

Dröm took a deep breath and thanked this bit of luck. At least I can still breathe. A subtle presence near him made him flinch, and he wished he could talk. I hope they see me! He strained his ears to listen to their footsteps, but there was nothing—utter silence.

And then, that voice.

Dröm.

It startled him since he heard it directly into his head. The voice was that of a child, sweet and musical, but completely devoid of emotion.

I waited for you, Dröm. For far too long. 

Who are you? He would normally worry about finding a child in such an inhospitable place, but he could immediately tell this was no regular girl.

It doesn’t matter who I am. I have been waiting, and now you will serve me. 

And he had been a dutiful servant. He fought against the will, holding him prisoner from the very beginning, failing miserably, while having to witness his friends and comrades kill and die. He feared their souls were as damaged as his—being forced to murder.

They had lost any hope for redemption.

Death was the only outcome he hoped for.

No. The voice in his head was always aware of his thoughts. You are yet to live, Dröm. I still need you to fulfill my will. I still need you to give meaning to my existence. 

What meaning do you hope to achieve from all this cruelty? What else can you rip from me, cursed child? Take my life already and end this madness! Watching the burning trees, his body shivered in pure hate. He had no control ever since the day he had talked to Flyg back in the mountains. “Flyg...” Her name escaped his lips. That beautiful girl had held him when he needed her the most, and in return, he couldn’t spare her from this torture. He hadn’t seen her for days, but he was not allowed to look for her. His body tightened when the awful consciousness reasserted its control over him.

The girl’s voice resounded in his mind. Forget about her. She left us.

Did she? What did they mean? Was Flyg dead? He didn’t know he could still feel more sadness in his heart. A small part of him dared hope to meet with her once more, before this diabolical force or anyone else in the Forest killed him.

If Flyg was dead, then she was spared. As he stood on the slope, quietly witnessing the burning trees in which the Quiet Folk’s village once stood, he said a prayer for the souls of those they had just slaughtered and silently asked for forgiveness from those survivors now forced to kill alongside them.

CHAPTER XXXV

BURY OUR PROBLEMS

Maeve

They stood restlessly in the all too familiar clearing, under the moonlight. Maeve waited next to a quite impatient Hua, and right behind them, both Warlocks shifted their attention between the god in front of them and the goddess slowly materializing from the roots of the Tree.

For the last half-hour, those roots had been growing, twisting, and molding into the body of a woman. This incredible display had Maeve and the others astonished, but the stag could hardly contain his annoyance. “As ridiculous as ever, Paki! This is why I insisted you didn’t adopt the form of a plant!”

A few thin branches lashed at him, but he effortlessly dodged them. Since it appeared like they were not done waiting, Finn moved next to Maeve, sweating and fidgeting with his hands. “Excuse me... err... Ancient... sir!” Not a simple task to address a god. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but... why did you adopt the form of...?” He vaguely gestured to the stag. “I mean, you look great! I just wonder...”

“It’s all right, Warlock Finn. Your curiosity is understandable.” Hua gave one last frown to her sister and turned to answer Finn’s question. “We originally didn’t possess a physical form, since my siblings and I are pure energy creatures.

“After the long eons it took us to complete our creation, many of us decided to reside here. Since our kind is formless, we adopted a body that allowed us to interact with our children, as best suited us,” he said, inspecting his hands. “My dearest sister Paki, a shy and quiet being, preferred to intervene from afar, indirectly but deeply.”

“Her emotions are profound, I could