The gray march

It was one of those diner places where travelers hear exceptional and sometimes creepy stories about something strange happened to someone driven by curiosity to go somewhere near enough to get them in troubles. I mean big troubles, like you forget a period of your life, or go missing for couple days till someone appears to get you out of a homeless, starving and dangerously dehydrated version of you. Or maybe you would  end up in a hospital like that guy from the north coast, who got very curious last month, and went to the woods all alone, two miles west behind the old river. That same diner where Megan had her meals for the last two weeks, hearing old stories, about the village, the mountain and the gray woods.

People of this village realized many years ago, that sometimes curiosity isn’t that good in some off places like the gray woods, it’s simply not a place for anyone, only those fearless goodhearted selected ones would be allowed, but if you’re not good enough, strong enough, swift enough, and clever enough, you better be aware, bad things coming your way. There were only two men and a woman that could go into the woods, and would not come back ruined. They were the only help in that place, people called them the watchers of the gray woods, they knew it well, and they could get anyone from any situation.

Megan wasn’t one of those curious random people, she was a curious explorer who would search, examine and study every evidence before going to unfamiliar places, and runs into something astonishing to fill that exploring discovery habit of hers.

Megan went to the watcher woman table, and sat in front of her.

“Will you help me find my way into the gray woods?” Megan asked politely.

“It’s finding your way out, what you should worry about.” Said the watcher woman.

“That’s why I am asking you to join me. You know that place better than anyone here.” Megan said.

“Didn’t you understand my work here my child? I am a watcher, I keep secrets hidden, I warn people off, and I get them out in time of need.” The watcher woman said.

“If you have to go, follow the sun. No dark shall beat the sun.” The watcher woman said when she looked at Megan’s sad face.

 With the first ray of the sunrise, the next morning, Megan stood ten feet away from the woods, silently, inhaling the fresh cold morning breeze before she went in. A side from the old stories and the myth about that place, everything there was so old, yet so full of life. Huge trees and big old stones, birds singing and a doe chewing grass; before it ran away from the newcomer.    

It took Megan four hours, till she reached a small waterfall, where she stood there stunned in that peaceful surrounding, she sat there for few minutes, observing and absorbing the life of these woods, it didn’t look scary or creepy to her anymore. So, she continued her journey deep in the gray woods, where the shadow of trees grew bigger and bigger till she found the gray old fortress sealed gate, she walked slowly nearby Its old wall, watching it carefully and touching it, all of a sudden, out of nowhere she heard some noises coming from these walls!

“Hello! Someone in here?” She asked. There was no answer.

“Hello! She shouted.” But what Megan didn’t know, that none of the noise-makers can hear her, even though she can hear them all, mumbling in a strange language, she wouldn’t understand.

She walked few steps toward the noise, looking for another entrance to this weird fortification walls. Large stones were piled in rows, with carved figures of warriors marched along with teams of chariots, behind one warrior, with a different faceless musculature figure, carved in high relief, as if they were warning intruders, by showing the strength of the army within the walls. She kept thinking about one thing though, it wasn’t all myth! This was an actual evidence to a real history of the gray march.

The noise kept going, as if they were talking to her! The nonstop talking walls got her a little scared, but also sad of the fact that she was the only one here, and the only one that could hear them. She began to look around, she didn’t notice she was the only one there, not even a bird insight, only her and the noise coming from the walls.

She got closer again to the walls, running her fingertips over the carved figures before she bumped into tombstone beneath some old marks, she wiped the dust and some old dead roots that stuck on it with her hands, and read the written words aloud.

“And here I am, standing alone. Not waiting for a sign, nor begging for an action. All alone. Yes. With no fear, facing you, seeking justice, bleeding for my rights, struggling to be, resisting giving up. Standing still. Overcoming suffering. Defeating pain. Standing still. It’s not over. Not yet.”

“Were those the last words of the march leader?” she asked herself.

The noise stopped mumbling and a drum began, beating slowly, it was like as if the drum player and the silent voices giving their respect to someone is arriving! A ray of the sun landed on a faceless knight on the wall for couple of seconds made everything quiet but a bird singing somewhere near, and the sun colored every stone with a dark orange red shade, all was at peace.

The sun touched every dark shadow, showing more carved stories on the walls, sacrifices stories, defense strategies, feasts and victories, and the sad end of the gray march. It was a history of fine warriors protecting the land and its people, loyal to everyone and everything that is home, and honoring it with their blood. By nightfall Megan held within her the secrets, in her way out of the gray woods, she met the three watchers. Now she understands, she is the newest secret keeper of the gray woods.