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I opened my eyes, groggily. Wincing, I rubbed my face and decided it was a bad idea, before slumping back down into the sodden grass. What had just happened?
Someone hit me. Great. I never like it when that happens, least of all when I'm out walking with my sister...
I sat bolt upright, ignoring the flashes of pain boring into my head, staring wildly around. She wasn't there. I jumped to my feet, scanning the horizons, spinning round. I couldn't see her. Panic has me now, gripping my heart twixt icy fingers. This...well, this can't be good. Obviously. I yelled out her name. Again. Louder. Screaming. Didn't care how scared I sounded. Again. Again.
There was no answer. I never expected one. I suppose it was our own fault, walking where we were. The older villagers had always told them - never go near those woods near the deep'ning lake. The whole area was drenched in the blood of sacrifices. A evil force lived there, wanting the revenge it had never been granted in life and not caring how it got it....The same old stuff. I'd always thought the men distilled cider up there, or something. Well, who expected younglings to believe stories like that?
Most people, actually, come to think of it. It occurs to me that saying 'I don't believe in you' wouldn't be helping my sister anytime soon.
OK, think. This situation won't be getting better any time soon, but it was all I could do to ignore the gnawing feel of loss that was already gaining root in my body. It was a dewy morning. Whatever took my sister should leave gashes of drier grass through the meadow? Right? I dropped onto one knee, scanning the nearby flax. No sign. Right, ignore what your head is telling you - they're not supernatural beings that have carried her off. You're just a ridiculously poor tracker.
Except that father had spent a good part of last week teaching you to track deer through the yew valley past Longstone last week. Right, to hell with this. She could only have been taken to the woods.
And, of course, that was my first of what now seems to be many mistakes. The mythos of the places had taken me in. But someone hit me and took my sister. They were going to pay. He remembered when one of the bullies from the crossroad-town near the road had come to the village, seeking easy pickings to line his filthy breeches with. He'd picked on a girl, as these people tend to do, and I remember the rage that had clouded my vision that day. He was going to be lucky to regain use of his left arm, or so I hear. He doesn't tend to come down this way anymore.
I plunged through the knee-high grass now. Faster. Faster. Breath catching in my throat as I stared at the looming trees ahead. I'll give those elders their credit - they chose a good place to set their spookyarn. The trees seemed gnarled with the weight of many years. This was a vast forest. It covered more acres than I cared to think of. It was said a crown prince had one day decided that there must be wild boar within its shadowlands and had taken a hunting party with him into the bowels. You'll be thinking 'And none returned', right? Good.
I was nearer now, and I'd like to say I heard whispering on the breeze, or the creak of vengeful timber. It'd give me more reason for the encompassing fear I had. I yelled her name again, just to hear something aside from the silence. Again. Aga...Did I hear something? A faint sound from within the forest? Yes...yes, I did. I yelled out again and pulled out the hunting knife a proud father had bestowed on me last week. Here we go then. Let's do this thing. I took a deep breath, as you tend to do in these situations, and plunged forward, arms raised to deflect the myraid thorny vines that snatched at me. I yelled as I ran, not knowing where to.
The light faded as I went deeper. Of course it did.
Her name again, ripping itself from my lips as if the woods even wanted my sounds. Could I still hear her voice on the dense silence that this forest seemed to cultivate? Methinks I can, somehow. But by now you must know there is no sound, and there never was. I think even I knew that, as I sprinted further and lost myself many time over. Sometimes what you know doesn't stand a chance against what you want - and I wanted to hear her voice. More than anything.
Except that wasn't true, now. At this moment, more than anything, I wanted to hurt someone, something, anything, and I was going to find it. It was going to pay. But as I ran, knowing I had no idea where I was, it began to dawn on me through the curtain of fire that seemed to be burning my thoughts....
...I wasn't getting out of here. I knew it, and there wasn't any mystical explanation for it. These woods weren't out for my blood, there was nothing supernatural about it. My sister - who knows? Local brigands? Slave traffickers? Maybe she hit me, for all I know. I'd let the mythos of the place engulf me.
Yet still I didn't turn. I plunged on.
From a birds eye view, if we were to assume you had such a vantagepoint and knew where I was, you would be able to see the untold acres and acres that spread out around me now. And, if you were of that frame of mind, I'd imagine you would swear the forest was growing, in every direction. Let us take it one step further, and say that you are of a mystic frame of mind - would you say that the forest was feeding on my desperation, rage and loss?
I wouldn't know. All I know, in this moment, is that I have nowhere to go and no-one to save me. I'm trapped, forever and an age, in acres of shadowland.
Someone hit me. Great. I never like it when that happens, least of all when I'm out walking with my sister...
I sat bolt upright, ignoring the flashes of pain boring into my head, staring wildly around. She wasn't there. I jumped to my feet, scanning the horizons, spinning round. I couldn't see her. Panic has me now, gripping my heart twixt icy fingers. This...well, this can't be good. Obviously. I yelled out her name. Again. Louder. Screaming. Didn't care how scared I sounded. Again. Again.
There was no answer. I never expected one. I suppose it was our own fault, walking where we were. The older villagers had always told them - never go near those woods near the deep'ning lake. The whole area was drenched in the blood of sacrifices. A evil force lived there, wanting the revenge it had never been granted in life and not caring how it got it....The same old stuff. I'd always thought the men distilled cider up there, or something. Well, who expected younglings to believe stories like that?
Most people, actually, come to think of it. It occurs to me that saying 'I don't believe in you' wouldn't be helping my sister anytime soon.
OK, think. This situation won't be getting better any time soon, but it was all I could do to ignore the gnawing feel of loss that was already gaining root in my body. It was a dewy morning. Whatever took my sister should leave gashes of drier grass through the meadow? Right? I dropped onto one knee, scanning the nearby flax. No sign. Right, ignore what your head is telling you - they're not supernatural beings that have carried her off. You're just a ridiculously poor tracker.
Except that father had spent a good part of last week teaching you to track deer through the yew valley past Longstone last week. Right, to hell with this. She could only have been taken to the woods.
And, of course, that was my first of what now seems to be many mistakes. The mythos of the places had taken me in. But someone hit me and took my sister. They were going to pay. He remembered when one of the bullies from the crossroad-town near the road had come to the village, seeking easy pickings to line his filthy breeches with. He'd picked on a girl, as these people tend to do, and I remember the rage that had clouded my vision that day. He was going to be lucky to regain use of his left arm, or so I hear. He doesn't tend to come down this way anymore.
I plunged through the knee-high grass now. Faster. Faster. Breath catching in my throat as I stared at the looming trees ahead. I'll give those elders their credit - they chose a good place to set their spookyarn. The trees seemed gnarled with the weight of many years. This was a vast forest. It covered more acres than I cared to think of. It was said a crown prince had one day decided that there must be wild boar within its shadowlands and had taken a hunting party with him into the bowels. You'll be thinking 'And none returned', right? Good.
I was nearer now, and I'd like to say I heard whispering on the breeze, or the creak of vengeful timber. It'd give me more reason for the encompassing fear I had. I yelled her name again, just to hear something aside from the silence. Again. Aga...Did I hear something? A faint sound from within the forest? Yes...yes, I did. I yelled out again and pulled out the hunting knife a proud father had bestowed on me last week. Here we go then. Let's do this thing. I took a deep breath, as you tend to do in these situations, and plunged forward, arms raised to deflect the myraid thorny vines that snatched at me. I yelled as I ran, not knowing where to.
The light faded as I went deeper. Of course it did.
Her name again, ripping itself from my lips as if the woods even wanted my sounds. Could I still hear her voice on the dense silence that this forest seemed to cultivate? Methinks I can, somehow. But by now you must know there is no sound, and there never was. I think even I knew that, as I sprinted further and lost myself many time over. Sometimes what you know doesn't stand a chance against what you want - and I wanted to hear her voice. More than anything.
Except that wasn't true, now. At this moment, more than anything, I wanted to hurt someone, something, anything, and I was going to find it. It was going to pay. But as I ran, knowing I had no idea where I was, it began to dawn on me through the curtain of fire that seemed to be burning my thoughts....
...I wasn't getting out of here. I knew it, and there wasn't any mystical explanation for it. These woods weren't out for my blood, there was nothing supernatural about it. My sister - who knows? Local brigands? Slave traffickers? Maybe she hit me, for all I know. I'd let the mythos of the place engulf me.
Yet still I didn't turn. I plunged on.
From a birds eye view, if we were to assume you had such a vantagepoint and knew where I was, you would be able to see the untold acres and acres that spread out around me now. And, if you were of that frame of mind, I'd imagine you would swear the forest was growing, in every direction. Let us take it one step further, and say that you are of a mystic frame of mind - would you say that the forest was feeding on my desperation, rage and loss?
I wouldn't know. All I know, in this moment, is that I have nowhere to go and no-one to save me. I'm trapped, forever and an age, in acres of shadowland.
No, go on. We can get tattoos and call each each "Brother" in a sincere voice.
I hope I don't have to make you the winner again, Stryke! People will start to shout "conspiracy!" - But yeah, this is once again good. I like the way you use the voice. Good style.
Loved it best read so far.
I opened my eyes, groggily. Wincing, I rubbed my face and decided it was a bad idea, before slumping back down into the sodden grass. What had just happened?
Someone hit me. Great. I never like it when that happens, least of all when I'm out walking with my sister...
I sat bolt upright, ignoring the flashes of pain boring into my head, staring wildly around. She wasn't there. I jumped to my feet, scanning the horizons, spinning round. I couldn't see her. Panic has me now, gripping my heart twixt icy fingers. This...well, this can't be good. Obviously. I yelled out her name. Again. Louder. Screaming. Didn't care how scared I sounded. Again. Again.
There was no answer. I never expected one. I suppose it was our own fault, walking where we were. The older villagers had always told them - never go near those woods near the deep'ning lake. The whole area was drenched in the blood of sacrifices. A evil force lived there, wanting the revenge it had never been granted in life and not caring how it got it....The same old stuff. I'd always thought the men distilled cider up there, or something. Well, who expected younglings to believe stories like that?
Most people, actually, come to think of it. It occurs to me that saying 'I don't believe in you' wouldn't be helping my sister anytime soon.
OK, think. This situation won't be getting better any time soon, but it was all I could do to ignore the gnawing feel of loss that was already gaining root in my body. It was a dewy morning. Whatever took my sister should leave gashes of drier grass through the meadow? Right? I dropped onto one knee, scanning the nearby flax. No sign. Right, ignore what your head is telling you - they're not supernatural beings that have carried her off. You're just a ridiculously poor tracker.
Except that father had spent a good part of last week teaching you to track deer through the yew valley past Longstone last week. Right, to hell with this. She could only have been taken to the woods.
And, of course, that was my first of what now seems to be many mistakes. The mythos of the places had taken me in. But someone hit me and took my sister. They were going to pay. He remembered when one of the bullies from the crossroad-town near the road had come to the village, seeking easy pickings to line his filthy breeches with. He'd picked on a girl, as these people tend to do, and I remember the rage that had clouded my vision that day. He was going to be lucky to regain use of his left arm, or so I hear. He doesn't tend to come down this way anymore.
I plunged through the knee-high grass now. Faster. Faster. Breath catching in my throat as I stared at the looming trees ahead. I'll give those elders their credit - they chose a good place to set their spookyarn. The trees seemed gnarled with the weight of many years. This was a vast forest. It covered more acres than I cared to think of. It was said a crown prince had one day decided that there must be wild boar within its shadowlands and had taken a hunting party with him into the bowels. You'll be thinking 'And none returned', right? Good.
I was nearer now, and I'd like to say I heard whispering on the breeze, or the creak of vengeful timber. It'd give me more reason for the encompassing fear I had. I yelled her name again, just to hear something aside from the silence. Again. Aga...Did I hear something? A faint sound from within the forest? Yes...yes, I did. I yelled out again and pulled out the hunting knife a proud father had bestowed on me last week. Here we go then. Let's do this thing. I took a deep breath, as you tend to do in these situations, and plunged forward, arms raised to deflect the myraid thorny vines that snatched at me. I yelled as I ran, not knowing where to.
The light faded as I went deeper. Of course it did.
Her name again, ripping itself from my lips as if the woods even wanted my sounds. Could I still hear her voice on the dense silence that this forest seemed to cultivate? Methinks I can, somehow. But by now you must know there is no sound, and there never was. I think even I knew that, as I sprinted further and lost myself many time over. Sometimes what you know doesn't stand a chance against what you want - and I wanted to hear her voice. More than anything.
Except that wasn't true, now. At this moment, more than anything, I wanted to hurt someone, something, anything, and I was going to find it. It was going to pay. But as I ran, knowing I had no idea where I was, it began to dawn on me through the curtain of fire that seemed to be burning my thoughts....
...I wasn't getting out of here. I knew it, and there wasn't any mystical explanation for it. These woods weren't out for my blood, there was nothing supernatural about it. My sister - who knows? Local brigands? Slave traffickers? Maybe she hit me, for all I know. I'd let the mythos of the place engulf me.
Yet still I didn't turn. I plunged on.
From a birds eye view, if we were to assume you had such a vantagepoint and knew where I was, you would be able to see the untold acres and acres that spread out around me now. And, if you were of that frame of mind, I'd imagine you would swear the forest was growing, in every direction. Let us take it one step further, and say that you are of a mystic frame of mind - would you say that the forest was feeding on my desperation, rage and loss?
I wouldn't know. All I know, in this moment, is that I have nowhere to go and no-one to save me. I'm trapped, forever and an age, in acres of shadowland.
Someone hit me. Great. I never like it when that happens, least of all when I'm out walking with my sister...
I sat bolt upright, ignoring the flashes of pain boring into my head, staring wildly around. She wasn't there. I jumped to my feet, scanning the horizons, spinning round. I couldn't see her. Panic has me now, gripping my heart twixt icy fingers. This...well, this can't be good. Obviously. I yelled out her name. Again. Louder. Screaming. Didn't care how scared I sounded. Again. Again.
There was no answer. I never expected one. I suppose it was our own fault, walking where we were. The older villagers had always told them - never go near those woods near the deep'ning lake. The whole area was drenched in the blood of sacrifices. A evil force lived there, wanting the revenge it had never been granted in life and not caring how it got it....The same old stuff. I'd always thought the men distilled cider up there, or something. Well, who expected younglings to believe stories like that?
Most people, actually, come to think of it. It occurs to me that saying 'I don't believe in you' wouldn't be helping my sister anytime soon.
OK, think. This situation won't be getting better any time soon, but it was all I could do to ignore the gnawing feel of loss that was already gaining root in my body. It was a dewy morning. Whatever took my sister should leave gashes of drier grass through the meadow? Right? I dropped onto one knee, scanning the nearby flax. No sign. Right, ignore what your head is telling you - they're not supernatural beings that have carried her off. You're just a ridiculously poor tracker.
Except that father had spent a good part of last week teaching you to track deer through the yew valley past Longstone last week. Right, to hell with this. She could only have been taken to the woods.
And, of course, that was my first of what now seems to be many mistakes. The mythos of the places had taken me in. But someone hit me and took my sister. They were going to pay. He remembered when one of the bullies from the crossroad-town near the road had come to the village, seeking easy pickings to line his filthy breeches with. He'd picked on a girl, as these people tend to do, and I remember the rage that had clouded my vision that day. He was going to be lucky to regain use of his left arm, or so I hear. He doesn't tend to come down this way anymore.
I plunged through the knee-high grass now. Faster. Faster. Breath catching in my throat as I stared at the looming trees ahead. I'll give those elders their credit - they chose a good place to set their spookyarn. The trees seemed gnarled with the weight of many years. This was a vast forest. It covered more acres than I cared to think of. It was said a crown prince had one day decided that there must be wild boar within its shadowlands and had taken a hunting party with him into the bowels. You'll be thinking 'And none returned', right? Good.
I was nearer now, and I'd like to say I heard whispering on the breeze, or the creak of vengeful timber. It'd give me more reason for the encompassing fear I had. I yelled her name again, just to hear something aside from the silence. Again. Aga...Did I hear something? A faint sound from within the forest? Yes...yes, I did. I yelled out again and pulled out the hunting knife a proud father had bestowed on me last week. Here we go then. Let's do this thing. I took a deep breath, as you tend to do in these situations, and plunged forward, arms raised to deflect the myraid thorny vines that snatched at me. I yelled as I ran, not knowing where to.
The light faded as I went deeper. Of course it did.
Her name again, ripping itself from my lips as if the woods even wanted my sounds. Could I still hear her voice on the dense silence that this forest seemed to cultivate? Methinks I can, somehow. But by now you must know there is no sound, and there never was. I think even I knew that, as I sprinted further and lost myself many time over. Sometimes what you know doesn't stand a chance against what you want - and I wanted to hear her voice. More than anything.
Except that wasn't true, now. At this moment, more than anything, I wanted to hurt someone, something, anything, and I was going to find it. It was going to pay. But as I ran, knowing I had no idea where I was, it began to dawn on me through the curtain of fire that seemed to be burning my thoughts....
...I wasn't getting out of here. I knew it, and there wasn't any mystical explanation for it. These woods weren't out for my blood, there was nothing supernatural about it. My sister - who knows? Local brigands? Slave traffickers? Maybe she hit me, for all I know. I'd let the mythos of the place engulf me.
Yet still I didn't turn. I plunged on.
From a birds eye view, if we were to assume you had such a vantagepoint and knew where I was, you would be able to see the untold acres and acres that spread out around me now. And, if you were of that frame of mind, I'd imagine you would swear the forest was growing, in every direction. Let us take it one step further, and say that you are of a mystic frame of mind - would you say that the forest was feeding on my desperation, rage and loss?
I wouldn't know. All I know, in this moment, is that I have nowhere to go and no-one to save me. I'm trapped, forever and an age, in acres of shadowland.