Keeper of the Woods

A rickety shack sat on the edge of a winding dirt road, deep within the Forest of Shadows. Most were scared of the woodlands, terrified of the creatures that roam the trees late into the night.

Dracea Toony however was not.

The middle-aged woman with fine, crinkled lines bunched at the outer edges of her lash lines bent to tend to her small garden. Allowing the thick, hydrated leaves coated in dew to caress her aging fingers as she hummed to them. She believed the more one would sing to the the young buds, stimulating their outer soft shell, the more nutrients they would absorb, the fleshy green acting as pores.

She smiled softly watching a vine move towards her a fraction of an inch.

“Hello there…”

The townspeople of Grayton thought her to be a witch, a freak. She had no desire to mingle with the people in town that were overcome with greed and violent behavior. She truly detested the once a month trip she would travel to retrieve goods, stocking her small home with breads, meats and cheeses along with the occasional fabrics to create her newest gardening wear.

She would also occasionally set up shop outside of her home, where she would sell the garden vegetables to passerbys wandering to and from Grayton, the small set up providing her with just enough coin to keep her happy.

Dracea stood up straight, arm bent with a hand resting on her aching back. She looked around her home at the slowly decaying, darkened russet wood that creaked when she shuffled across the floors. Only two windows were on the front of the home, layered in forest debris. If you looked inside you could see the dim yellow light of a small lamp that set next to her worn in chair, stitched with blues and golds by her own hands.

There was a small front porch that held a single rocking chair, matching the wood of the home. Plants and wind chimes hung from above, swaying gently as the wind blew past. The shack had a steep roof, behind it a chimney peeked above, billowing gray smoke whipping through the clouds.

The sky was dull today, the trees a wonderful shade of veridian, making her slightly melancholy with the grayed weather. She wiped her hands on her denim overalls covered in tears and patches of patterns, a pocket set across her right breast. She reached for her hose, spraying the garden before her.

She could almost swear she heard them singing back to her.

When she was finished she walked inside, wiping her boots across the rug outside the front door to keep from tracking filth across her living room. She stopped at the kitchen sink, washing her hands as she grabbed bright colored vegetables, rinsing them under lukewarm water, setting them on a cutting tray. She grabbed some lean beef, just enough to warm her belly, slicing all of it to throw in a large pot with water, broth and seasonings, bringing it to a boil on her once white stove.

She bustled about the home, cleaning herself up from the day’s activities. She wrung her auburn hair streaked with silver in a frayed towel, running a brush through afterwards. She snuggled into a cozy set of cream colored pajamas, sliding her matching slippers over her aching feet.

When she was finished, so was her soup, the smell wafting through each doorway, encouraging her bones to relax. She made herself a bowl and sat in her chair, appreciating and completely enjoying her hard earned meal. Being her age, she no longer could stay up into the night so when she finished her bowl, she wiped her kitchen down, stored her food and retreated to her bedroom where she sunk under a fluffy, down comforter - Drifting with ease, dreaming of the forest she loved.

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When Dracea awoke the following day, she prepared herself, putting on clothes that did not carry stains to ensure she would have buyers for her fresh vegetables.

She wrapped her hair into a low ponytail, catching a glimpse of her hazel eyes that unlike her physical being still had so much life inside.

She was too old for make up and pretty clothes. She was a simple woman that had no time to waste. When she stepped a booted foot from her porch she surveyed the day, excited to see a bit of sun peaking through the branches.

“Good morning,” she sang to the plants and the trees.

She heard bicycles zooming from the road which made her turn her head sharply. A couple of gangly boys zipping by, staring at her wide-eyed.

“I see the witch is out of her hut today,” the freckled one snickered.

She shook her head, watching as they rode faster down the winding road. Used to the comments she began grabbing everything she would need to set up her shop.

When she was finished, a sign sat to the side, black paint indicating the price of each vegetable that was in season. She sat patiently, just enjoying the peace around her.

She heard a horse whinny and huff, not far from where she sat, startling her after realizing that she had become absorbed in her mind.

“Hello ma’am,” a stranger donned in black trousers and suspenders with a white t-shirt tipped his hat towards her.

“Didn’t mean to scare ya’…”

She shook her head quickly, elated that someone had finally stopped by.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Please have a look if you’re interested in buying!”

Her chair creaked as she got up to assist the man if need be.

“I had heard there was a woman livin’ this way, heard somethin’ about her singin’ to the plants,” he eyed her and the vegetables spread before them, lean fingers drifting over each one.

“I do like to sing to them, that’s why they’re some of the best in town.”

It was true, though the people didn’t like to admit it. They’d rather pass judgment, spit at her and ostracize her before even half admitting that her garden held the heartiest of vegetables.

“Ya’ know, I garden myself. Had to come take a look. Figure out why I ain’t gettin’ no customers no more.”

The glint in his eye made her feel uneasy as he smirked.

“I can assure you sir, I’m not trying to take anyone’s business. Just an old woman, in an old house, tending to her plants.”

“Huh,” he huffed her way.

He retreated, turning to his horse, a truly magnificent beast with a shiny black coat and thick mane.

Dracea was confused.

The man hopped onto his horse, tipping his hat to her.

“G’day.”

She watched as his horse trotted away, not understanding the interaction and quite frankly a little ticked that he never introduced himself. She considered that rude.

Scowling, she sat back in her chair awaiting her next customer that would hopefully be in better spirits than the man and had the decency to at least introduce themselves.

With luck, she did receive a few buyers, granting her enough money to last her for awhile. A few regulars, a few stragglers.

She tore everything down as the sun began to set behind the darkening forest. The sounds of birds and movement began to still, the daytime creatures receding to their hidden homes.

When she had put everything away, she went inside proceeding to do her usual night routine. This time after she had showered, she made herself a glass of milk, deciding to sit in her chair.

After finishing her ice cold milk, she began to feel sleepy and within minutes had dozed off, surely due to the eventful day she’d had.

A few hours later, she smelled smoke. Her eyes opened wide as she blinked over and over to rid the sleep gathered in her lashes.

Smoke?

She was sure she hadn’t left anything on, she hadn’t even ate before she fell asleep.

Startled, she jumped up, peeking outside of her window.

Her eyes widened as she saw the man from that day, dumping gasoline over her garden in front of her home.

She ran to her front door, slamming it open, not caring what she looked like.

“Hey! Get off my property!”

The man tipped his hat to her as she noticed a pack of matches in his hand.

“What do you think you’re doing? You leave my home alone!”

She tripped over her words and her feet as she made her way down the short steps, her heart feeling as if it would seize at any moment. This man was going to ruin her livelihood. Everything she’d worked so hard for, put love and time into creating and growing.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, wetting her night shirt.

“Please, stop!”

Her body betrayed her mind. Her head said run, but her body just couldn’t keep up.

“Heard ya’ was a witch. I believe them kids. Them vegetables is too pretty and there can only be one gardener around here.”

He sparked the match, the flame lighting his eyes as they bore into hers.

“No!”

He flicked the match, it landing right in the middle of everything she’d ever loved. Her insides turned as fear overrode her mind.

She let out a scream that would be heard for miles, her body convulsing until finally it stopped and stilled.

The man froze as her eyes turned white, a blinding light beaming across his face, flames dancing before her.

“I am the keeper of the Forest of Shadows. How dare you attempt to ruin this land.”

The voice coming from her was ancient and deep.

“You will turn and never come back, for if I see you again I will hang you from the furthest tree.”

The man tripped over his boots, falling along the way to his horse on the other side of the road. He jumped up, the horse already beginning to take off down the dirt road with him hooping atop for the gentle beast to go faster.

She watched him disappear in the trees and with a snap of her fingers, Dracea simmered the flames until they were no more. She cried as she made her way slowly towards her garden, taking in the damage that pulled at her chest.

She caressed the burnt leaves and exposed roots.

“My babies…”

She stuck her finger into the ground, blinding light quickly emanating as a small plant slowly grew from the recently singed dirt.

She smiled with wonder, a last tear landing on top, watering it with her love.

For she was the keeper of these woods and would eliminate anyone or thing that attempted to destroy it.