Oak

The sun rose about wide fields and mighty trees, drawing spots of golden light onto the dark green leaves. The great Treetops swayed in a slight breeze, causing the leaves to rustle. The birds sung to great the rising sun, and somewhere hidden beyond the tree line a small stream wound its way through the trunks, its murmuring water whispering of hidden springs, refreshing coolness and distant shores. Another sound joined the forest edges quiet Melody.

It was the sound of someone singing to themselves rather nervously, not once hitting a single Note. She had heard rumors, that wolves had returned to the forest, and hoped desperately, that her fathers claim was true. She dared to doubt that they would avoid humans if they heard them coming, but it was the only hint of safety she could get. After all, where must be reasons people kept out of the woods, even before the wolves returned.

She honestly begged the others to have the picnic somewhere else, but they just wouldn’t listen. The forest was safe enough, they said. The usual Park was boring, they said. So now she was here, having turned her bright and familiar fields, as she faced the green wall infront of her. Her desperate song wavering, almost fading, as she took one deep, final breath, before the living ocean shallowed her whole.

The Instructions she got there clear enough. At least they seemed clear enough, while she was sitting in the shadows of her gardens only Apple tree.

“Follow the big road, till it meets a little pathway on your left. Follow it until you see the really big oak. If You see it, face away from it, and walk in a straight line. There should be a little waterfall, there we will wait for you.”

She truly managed to find the path without much issue. Barely more than a wild path, made only by rare stealthy feet throughout countless lonely years, but still easy enough to spot. To find the big oak however, proofed to be a much more difficult challenge.

There where many oaks close to the path, and the crowns of the trees all seemed to blend into one another, so that it became almost impossible to tell if one of them seemed to be a bit taller than the others. After she walked past the tenth oak without spotting a clear distinguishing factor concerning the height of the trees, a seed of panic began to grow inside of her Chest. The more franticly she began to look for an oak that fit the description “really big”, the colder and quieter did the forest seem to her. She felt as if the late summers light, of which little managed to break through the treetops in the first place, faded more and more.

One of these trees needed to be the really Big Oak. She probably passed it already. She was alone in the woods no one ever entered. She needed to find that Oak. The next one must be it, certainly. Or maybe it was the last one. Didn’t it look like its Branches started a little bit higher? What if she chose the wrong tree, if she missed the waterfall or ran of in a completely wrong direction? Would she disappear in there, never to see the warm light of the sun again? She should turn back as long as she still had the chance, but her friends were still in there, waiting.

Eventually, the path made the choice for her. It did not stop, it slowly faded, becoming less and less distinguishable from the undergrowth of the forest, till it was no longer visible at all. She chose to turn back, for clearly, she went too far and passed by the big oak. But despite her Attempts to trace her steps back, the path would never reappear. She was lost. Lost, alone inside the woodland Labyrinth.

As cold as ice the woods now seemed, and the branches of the silent giants seemed to grab for the sole, unwelcome intruder in their midst. Hopelessly, all the desperate courage she kept in her heart leaving her like water that she tried to hold in her Hands. She sunk to the ground, as a desperate Song, like a final Attempt to calm her nerves was quickly replaced by silent sobbing.

She was alone. She was lost. Lost where no one would ever seek her. Lost in old Woods with no way out. She was alone. As painful and terrifying as that thought had fled, As desperately she wished it to be true, as the forest began to sing.

A wordless Song filled the cold air. Inhuman yet hauntingly beautiful, mournful and yet filled with a distant longing. A Song she had hoped to go her entire life without hearing. A forest song, a moon song, a wolve song. It seemed to come from everywhere, surrounding her from all directions. She sung so they would hear her, and where fore would avoid her. But now she couldn’t bring herself to make a single sound. Even just to move seemed to be thing of absolute impossibility. Was that the sound of a twig snapping under a paw? Was there Movement in the undergrowth over there? Every little sound the forest made, every little breeze suddenly seemed like a deadly threat, just waiting for the right Moment to strike.

As she sat there, in the Moment of greatest fear and despair, is seemed to her like she saw a rough line, where the undergrowth was a bit lower, a bit less dense. “The path” she thought, as a tiny spark of hope returned to her heart. Slowly she got up and made her way to she thought she spotted the path. Very slowly. Her father always said that wild animals on the hunt would see you as prey if you ran from them, so she forced herself to walk slowly. All her instincts were screaming at her to run, but she remained slow, setting one-foot Infront of the other.

The feeling of restless stares, of unnumbered unseen eyes, burned in her back. One Foot Infront of the other. All noises but the howls died down. One Foot Infront of the other. The leaves rustled close to her. One Foot Infront of the other. Thorn bushes tore on her dress and scratched her skin. One step Infront of the other. A shadow mowed in the back of her eye. One step Infront of the other. The branches moved. One step Infront of …

The branches grabbed for her. She ran. She ran dodging vines and thorns. She ran against the wind, which grew and grew in strength. She ran, just blindly in one direction, not caring if she still followed the path. Not caring about the size of any oaks. Not caring about the now quieter howls, that did not seem to pursue her. She just ran.

Suddenly she stumbled out of the woods. Warm sunlight greeted her, bright and blinding after the eternal twilight bellow the forest roof. She wanted to laugh in relief, to run Home. To eat a delicious dinner. To wait for her friends to get back and tell them that they could never enter that forest again. To never in look in its direction.

But instead of the quiet silence of the wild fields, a thundering roar filled her ears, drowning out even the now distant howls of the wolves. It was not the short lived, threatening roar of some beast. It was the roar of water. Endless masses of water, falling with the full force of nature. Falling down endless cliffs on the side of a Mountain high enough to pierce the sky. A Mountain that should not and could not have been hidden from her home, for it was simply too big and enormous not to be seen throughout all the land. And yet it wasn’t, for the forest never even seemed to have some particularly notable hill. This should not be possible, but still she stood there, speechless on the bottom of the waterfall, the silver stream of a wild river blocking her way forward, Splitting the woods in two. This way, she couldn’t leave or find her way back.

So, she turned around and froze again. The way she came, almost a straight skyline away, one tree towered above the rest. It was not just a bit taller; it was huge. Its trunk alone seemed to be wide enough to fit a larger house. And its highest leaves scratched the clouds. “oak” she thought, with some Amusement that even surprised herself.

Remembering her friend’s instructions, she chose to look around for a bit, as she spotted some stones close to the forest edge. They there of an odd color, as dark as coal. Some even seemed to be partially molten. Upon closer expectation, the forest seemed to hide the scorched remains of an overgrown wall. Even an empty hole still revealed the spot a gate once stood, curiously she walked through it. Infront of her where Wide fields. Behind her the sun drew golden spots on mighty trees swaying in a slight Breeze. The song of birds and the rustling of leaves mixed with the murmuring of a small stream hidden behind the tree line.

In an endlessly wide forest, close to an enormous Waterfall stood the long lost remains of an an once proud castle, lost to fire long ago. Who looked close enough on the scorched remains of its walls, might discern words in the pattern of Moss and Ranks. We are Sorry, they could have read, and wondered.