The Chronicon of Zeom 

Short Story: Dark Forest of Croon

by

M.R.Yuvaraj

The Children

People say ‘Trees can speak to the soul of beings’. Well, some of our trees at Waywood forest not only speak but have souls. Eldwood were the first sapient being Kuaail created, long before the Magus and the Primals. But, that’s a story for another time. 

‘Anyone can feel the trees smile if one knew how’. Croon stirred from his slumber to the sweet fragrance of Myriaden’s smile. They have been his friends (no, more than friends as trees could be) since they were Sapling at the borders of Waywood, an ancient forest in Zeom.

“What’s so amusing?” said Croon puzzled.

“The Human Children - See, how they are making up characters for their make-belief game? They have so much of Kuaail in them.”

“Kuaail - The Progenitor?” exclaimed Croon. “Have you started growing acorns, darling?”

“Yes”, Myriaden said in a nostalgic melody. “‘Remember, him meditating on the Zeomentals for creating the Magus and wondering how to fashion them?” suddenly, in a teasing she said “Oh and I remember you chanting ‘Thumbs, Thumbs' and he shouted ‘Okay! Thumbs. Now, shut up.’ ”

Croon straightened up at the jest, as a Tree could. “Well, I was just giving Kuaail some counsel.”

“Counsel from a 100-year-old Elwood sampling?” She chuckled. “If Nannya, bless her soul, was still here, she would have laughed her trunks off.”

Croon straighten up as much as a tree could and cleared his throat. “Ahem, anyway, the point was ‘how can you compare these puny short-lived beings with the Great Kuaail?’ They don’t even come close to Greedy Gammuc, living underground, or  the glorified librarians, Shadhu, calling themselves” chackling Croon end ‘The Explorers of Zeom and Beyond’.”

“Urgh! Thousands of years and you still a Prat. You listen, Croon. I have seen them grow under my branches. Make food off my fruits. Find Shelter in my shade. I even created the bordering Lay-trees of Waywood for their shelter and fire. Short-lived or not, they are like my children and they seem great to me!”

“Okay. Okay. I am sorry.” said Croon, still with a smile. He went back to sleep. It was sundown, anyway.

The Darkest Night

“Aaaaaa…” came a scream from Myriaden. Croon could not see in the moonless night but felt the agony of Myriaden. All he heard was unfamiliar screeches in a rhythm. Croon sent out a murmur in search of Myriaden but there was utter silence. He beseeched the other Eldwood trees of Waywood for some news of Myriaden. Only silence prevailed in Southern Waywood. All the murmur brought back was agony and hopelessness. ‘One glimpse of her murmur would be enough.’ he said absentmindedly and waited anxiously for the first ray of the Red sun. 

As the Red sun rose, Croon was shaken by the sight and collapsing to the ground, he whispered “A stump! All that was left of her was her stump.” Croon stared at it the whole day. He said or did nothing. But, Zeomentals could feel his heart turning grey. Illumin rushed to counsel him but Murkin was there already. It had Croon and was turning him dark and wicked. Illumin felt his pain and despair, but there is only so much a Zeomental can do against the will of any Sapient, so it Illumin left him to Murkin as the day turned gloom.

###

The Red Sun was already setting, and a thin glint of the Yellow New Moon’s shimmered on something. It caught Croon’s eye and his face grew horrid. “Metal… Humans…. Murderersssss.” whispered Croon.

Croon closed his eyes and called forth the powers of all his kinstree in southern Waywood. He raised his hands to the sky and made a great murmur… a murmur of doom. Purple Fumes spread from Southern Waywood. The sound travelled all the way to the Hall of the Magus in South, the edges of Northern Waywood, and desolate dunes of East, But, the fumes formed a hand of a Tree stretched towards the Farmlands of Men. There was, definitely, Malice in the air.

The Creature

Marley Hickory woke up in the middle of the night. His Laywood hut resounded with his wife’s snores. He smirked. Absentmindedly, he got out of the bed scratching his groins and walked to his 5-year-old son’s room scratching his head. 

As he entered, he immediately felt strangeness in the air. The hair on his back stood on ends. The  room was cold and too silent for his liking. He slowly walked to the lump of blankets on his son’s bed but found it empty. Suddenly, Marley heard “Auoooooooooo” and ran towards it in the fields at the back of the hut. He picked up a pitchfork on his way out. 

There was just darkness, but he heard unfamiliar noises coming from the fields- Screeching mangled with a growl. Listening closely, he stepped lightly towards the fields. His eyes took gradually adjusted and he saw shapes of sorts in the fields. He stopped, dead in fear, hearing  sounds of padding behind him. A growl sent a chill through his spine. 

Marley turned slowly to face a wolf-like creature snarling at him and started to circle him in swinging strides. He saw curved fingernails, Lean body, low-set ears, elongated Jag with big sharp sets of teeth and blood. His whole body shivered and he moaned to himself “God, No. Please, No!”. He picked up his courage, bolted forward attacking the creature with his fork shouting “Aaaargh”. But, it dodged him with ease and jumped over his head, landing behind him. Before Marley could stop himself and turn, he heard a ripping sound. He stopped in his tracks and closed his eyes at the dreaded sound. He wished he did not know it and was afraid to turn expecting he knew what the sight would be. He turned and found the limp body of his wife being devoured by the creature. 

Red-eyed and tearing welling, Marley aligned his legs and lurched forward with his pitchfork again; a muscle memory of a past life. This time he hit the distracted creature deep in its thighs but the creature bit the thing and snapped it into two. Marley was shaking in both fear and anger. He backed slowly but stumbled and fell. The creature snarled at him menacingly and stepped forward towards him. Suddenly, it stopped and lifted its head, with pricked ears. Abruptly, it stopped its dance. It sniffed the air, momentarily, and turned. The creature narrowed its Raged red eyes and Long-sharp ears focusing across the fields. Marley jerked at a dreadful howl from that direction, which sent a chill through his spine and curled his stomach. The creature replied with a howl of its own, and ran swiftly toward East on its fours. 

The Settlement

Weldad - The Life binder stopped whistling and hurried along with Geeli - The Wanderer, into the misty Southern Waywood. The forest started filling up with strange noises –growling and whimpering - barking and howling. Geeli saw sketches of obscene creatures among the grief-struck trees.

They reached the clearing where Myriaden’s stump stood and found Croon with his eyes closed and hands to the sky making a great murmur. His Brown lush bark looked Grey - Black with hints of Red as if his insides had turned into a fiery pit.

Geeli ran and pulled out a piece of long bark from the Myriaden’s tree stump. He closed his eyes in meditation. Lustin, Forces of Spirit, answered. A Green totem-shaped light appeared in his mind’s eye and Geeli stood statuesque in his meditation.

“Croon, Stop!” Weldad shouted

Crom stopped and looked at Weldad. “Stop?” said Croon in a sly voice. “But, this is just the beginning.” he chided. 

Weldad’s eyes glared. “This is wrong. Murkin is gnarling the Old Waywood. Your numbers already dwindle. Stop this madness before all of  Eldwood be lost to us.”, Weldad tone softened, "I beseech you, Old Friend!"

“No, Magus. This is a fitting price for the crime.” boomed Croon in reply and continued in a mellower voice “If my Myriaden had to go, all must go.”

Geeli stirred from his meditation and looked Croon into his eyes. He just stepped forward and placed his palm on Croon. Croon’s eyes widened and he quivered. “Myriaden!” 

“Yes, my love.” said the Spirit of Myriaden.

Cron straightened up as a Tree could, “I will punish them, my love. I will make them pay for taking you from me.” pleaded Croon. 

“Thousands of years and you still a Grinch.” she smiled. “Forgive them, Croon. They are Children. Forgive them.”

“What?” boomed Croon. “They don’t deserve forgiveness. For thousands of years, we stood together, and in the night's shadows they robbed you from me. You! Remember all that you did for them? Yet… yet.” Croon ended sobbing.

“Croon, Hear the truth. It was two humanz who cut me down. Two! But, what you did is monstrosity.” She said angrily. 

She gave out a deep sigh, smiled her gentle way and said “Enough. Now, Stop this.” And started fading away saying “Remember, they are my children. Our Children.”

Geeli patted Croon's truck, who slumped to the floor. Geeli stepped to the centre of the clearing and meditated on Obsurin - Forces of Mystery, creating a ball of purple. Bright fumes spiralled around as it floated in the sky. The bark of Myriaden floated of its own volition into the ball and it engulfed it. The ball exploded in a spectacular cloud of fumes in sky that descended  creating a dome of obsurin around the southern Waywood forest. The bark Floated slowly into Geeli’s palm. Geeli felt the fragrance of Myriaden smile in the protection around the forest. Geeli relaxed and turned to Weldad, and said, “They are safe, for now. But, they will need a teacher.”

“They have a teacher in me.” said Weldad and turned towards the forest. “Come, my Lycan, we have a lot to learn.”

The Realization

The people of ‘Farmlands of Men’ gathered at the village hall. 

“All our children have been killed by those Foul creatures.” cried a man. The Women wailed in anguish. 

A man came forward in front of the Chief and kneeled, tears rolling down, “Forgive us! Forgive us!”

“Forgive you?” asked the Chief.

“The doom befell on of us because of to of us.” Cried the wife.

The man’s face stood up, wiping his tears, said “ I cut the Mother Tree down!" A resounding a gasp came from the crowd. He hung his head and continued "The creatures came because of that. I could not see in the dark. It was a mistake. We just wanted to cut a Laytree for making our hut before the baby came. It was my mistake.” He fell on his knees, sobbing.

 The Chief stood up to speak but the man said “Please. Punish me. Leave my wife and my unborn live. Please, Show mercy.”

The chief raises his hands, rushing the chatter. “Mercy, you shall have.” he said a soft voice. “We have lost too many lives on this night of reckoning. But, leave this town with your wife and never return. "Go. Live honouring Zeom!” said the Chief. 

The Chief looked around at the grief and confused faces, and said “Hatred and vengeance is the way of Murkin. We need to move on. Let’s pray to Illumin to show us the way. And, May Eera show us light in this darkness.” 

The man said "Thank you… Thank you." and turned to hurry towards the hall doors. But, his path echoed by the cry of a newborn. The village wise women walked in, carrying a white bundle, and handed it over to the man. He took it in his arms, and gave a smile of relief. Before rushing forward, he turned and gave a thankful nob at the chief, and he ran out of the wall.

The Conclusion

A four Bluemoons later, at the Farmlands of Men, the King sat next to the Farmlands Chieftain at a table of the Festival of Myriaden's feast in the hall. The Chieftain’s daughter took their leave and walked towards the Bonfire, picking a mask. Following her, the Prince too quickly excused himself and ran behind her.

“So, is it true? This festival represents the children lost on the night of reckoning?” asked the Prince from behind.

“Jeez”, the girl said. Seeing him, her eyes softened and followed her shoes as she continued walking.  “No! It’s a festival to Thank Goddess Myriaden - Our foremother and the caretaker. It is said ‘as long as her blessing surrounds us, we will be safe and have plentiful.’” 

The Prince’s hand brushed hers as he walked by her side. At the touché, her smile widended and she sprinted forward to the bonfire. The Boy Prince grinned wide. Brushing his hair back, he wore his Wolf Mask, and joined the dancing circle.