Phantasmal Forest

The view from the ledge of the mossy plateau allowed Henna to observe the menacing canopy of the tri-colored trees that filled the gorge below her. Here, the air was pure and revitalizing. Her wind spirit companion twirled around her, playfully nudging her cheeks and momentarily distracting her from the spiraling worries plaguing her mind.

             “You’re feeling spry.” Henna noted. The sparrow-sized spirit nodded vigorously and summersaulted in loopty-loop fashion for added emphasis. “Good. Tonight’s the night.” Her eyes drifted back over what lay behind them now. The Phantasmal Forest.

             According to legend, a great treasure was hidden somewhere in its depths. Somewhere among live foliage, poisonous mists, and regenerative waters. Protected by strange beasts and formidable curses. Many had entered the forest over the centuries with varying motives. Whether it was in search of the treasure, for cultivation of medicinal cures, to capture monsters for trade, or purely for the adventure and bragging rights. The forest claimed most of them. And those who survived were changed. In one way or another. Even after enduring just one week in the outer factions. They were both feared and revered simultaneously.

             Henna was now one such person. She had entered the forest by accident nearly two years ago. She had been playing with her brother in the network of caves on the mountainside near their home when the cave floor collapsed, and she plummeted to the heart of the mountain. Henna cried for her brother, but there was no response. Luminescent roots lined the walls around her. Glittering particles floated in the air like inanimate fireflies. It was just enough light to illumine the tunnel in front of her. She followed it until it opened at the base of a massive tree with black bark and orange leaves as big as her head. She was scared. But she was in awe. And she was curious. Above her, the treetops were so tightly packed that they blocked the sky completely, creating a ceiling, of sorts, with shades of oranges, pinks, and purples. Thick vines lazily snaked around the branches. As she approached the tall fronds standing stalwart in a semi-circle surrounding her, they bowed away, revealing a path. Henna wandered through the maze of paths throughout the gorge, looking for one that would lead her home, while also admiring what she was witnessing. She survived by drinking the pooled dew collected in the cupped leaves of the ground flora that offered it to her. Unknowingly, minute amounts of toxins from the night mists were diluted in these offerings. Every time she drank, she built an immunity against them. It also squelched her hunger, so she never felt the need to scrounge for edible foods. Along the way, she encountered creatures of all ilk. From a swarm of winged lizards, no bigger than her thumb. To a boulder sized, armored rodent. Some tried attacking her. But the vast majority were harmless. Among these creatures, she met Oryx. A young wind spirit as free as she was. They bonded quickly. And it was Oryx who eventually helped Henna escape from the wiles of the forest using its own limited magics to clear the fog clouding Henna’s reasonings.

             They managed to scale the mountainside to the mossy plateau after fighting an acid spitting cliff spider and facing the blinding light of the high sun. They rested in the shade under a rocky overhang until evening before venturing out into the softer lighting. After one last look at the forest below, Henna was ready to go home.

             Henna approached the entrance of the town with the expectation of a grand welcome. Oryx floated near her shoulder, shivering with anticipation. Alarm bells rang out suddenly. Henna smiled, thinking they were celebrating her return. Little did she know she no longer looked the same as she had before. Her body had adapted to the never-ending darkness of the forest. Her once golden hair was now as pale as moonlight, although still maintained its silky texture. Her tanned skin had taken on a slight blue tinge that shimmered like pearls when touched by the light. Her eyes had grown larger, rounder, and darker. She was taller and thinner. This she knew since she had outgrown her clothes and had fashioned the dress she wore now from the sable hair of a three-horned hairy python, decorated with the copper scales of a rock chicken and the maroon feathers of a maned boar.

             One by one people began crowding the main road. They spoke in hushed tones behind fanned hands, with widened eyes. But it wasn’t disbelief and joy in their expressions. It was shock and fear. Henna slowly started feeling uneasy once she saw someone grab hold of their long staff as she walked by. When she reached her house, her family was already gathered outside.

At the sight of her mother, Henna cried, “Mother! I’m home!”

Instead of receiving her with open arms, her mother recoiled. “What is it that you want phantom?” she asked.

Henna repeated, “Phantom?” She shared a looked with Oryx, then looked around at the crowd pressing in around them. That’s when she realized. They thought she was a creature from the forest. Born of the forest. She looked down at herself and saw the changes for the first time. She gasped as she turned her hands over and back again, panic welling in her chest. Oryx sensing it, tried nudging her. Henna put her hands up and stepped forward toward her family. “It’s me! Henna. I know I’ve changed, but… I’m still your daughter!” she plead. Except, that’s not what they heard. Without human interaction, her speech had also been changed in the forest. It had developed a sound of its own, sounding half like a beast’s roar. Coupled with her outstretched arms, she appeared to be cursing them.

A rock hit her temple. Henna shrieked and dropped to her knees, clutching her head. She felt a warm liquid run down the side of her face. She was bleeding. Someone yelled, “Get it!” It was her brother. “Get the phantom! Don’t let it curse us!” Henna cried out when another rock hit her. Oryx started whirling around her like a tornado. Weapons that hit it’s funnel of wind ricocheted and were sent back toward the assailants. The crowd backed away. Henna took the chance to flee through an opening. She heard the shouts of those who pursued her. He father’s voice rang out over the others, “Don’t let it get away!”

Henna cried as she ran. Back to the mossy plateau. The last light of the sun was disappearing from the sky. On the ledge, she looked down at the canopy of the tri-colored trees that filled the gorge below her. Instead of the menacing aura it held before, she felt a sense of hope and refuge. Before she could look for a way down, she felt a sting in her side. She looked down to find an arrowhead glistening with her blood. She touched it gingerly and turned around to face the crowd that had followed her this far. At the front was her brother with his hunting bow in hand. In the firelight of the torches, glistening particles danced in the air around Henna. The enchantments of the forest began to fade from her body. Her hair and skin returned to what they were before. She coughed and blood spat from her lips.

“Henna?” her brother whispered in confused unbelief.

“Yewin.” Henna whispered back just before taking one step backward.

Her brother rushed forward yelling her name again. He reached the edge in time to see the Phantasmal Forest reclaim his sister, enveloped in the wind of Oryx’s arms.