The Wind In The Willows

Trigger Warning: non-graphic torture/death

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They say that The Wind tells you things, stories. The stories whispered in the breeze. They say that those who can’t bear to stay away seek it. Even knowing that The Wind wasn’t a solution. There wasn’t a fairy-tale ending for those associated with The Wind. Yet, being away from it was unbearable. So I will tell you the story of a little girl, who tried to seek The Wind.

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In a little town, there was a little forest. In this little forest, there was a little creek. In this little creek, there was the body of a little girl.

This little girl was named Halene, in her language, it meant wild. Not crazed or improbable, but like a wildflower. Free to go where her heart wanted. Wild. Like a deer. However, this is not what she was known for. She was nicknamed Chiliya. This meant fire. For her habit of self-destruction. It was rather unfortunate, but I like the name Halene better. So I think that I will stick to that while I tell you this story.

In this little town, The Wind was sacred. They treasured it above life. It guided their boldest leaders, gave them direction, and protected them.

But nothing good comes without a price.

The Wind was also a curse. 

It attracted those with a deep destructive desire for life. For beauty, and for something special. Something that had long faded from the hearts of the people that lived in that little town. Wonder.

Halene longed for wonder. She wanted the feeling that others didn’t understand. She wanted to watch the beauty of an infant crawling to its mother, babbling and giggling. She longed to feel the rain as she danced below a canopy of trees. I could do nothing to stop this longing, only watch it in its path to destruction. But most of all she wanted to look up at the thousands of stars, and she wanted to count them. One by one until she was left with only a sense of amazement. She had never felt wonder. I tried to warn her. Oh, I swear I did, but no matter how hard I try, I can

never convince one of the poor souls to run.

But what happened to those who longed for wonder was not beautiful. The Wind would lure those souls deep into the woods. Guiding them with warmth and love. Illuminating a path with joy. Finally, when you reached The Wind, you were surrounded by something breathtaking.

The willow trees curved elegantly. Twisting up into the sky and out into the air around them. Flowing from the ridge of the curving branches, muted color spilled over the edge. They reached down until the flowing tendrils just reached the vibrant wildflowers and ferns sprouting from the ground. Everything in the trees whispered of wonder, promising the longing souls all they desired.

Then as the poor beings crept through the waterfall of color, into the embrace of The Wind, everything went wrong. It was hard to watch, knowing the consequences of their actions but being nearly powerless to offer any assistance. 

The Wind started by showing them the beauty of the world, the wonder, the love, the thrill that only life can give you. Then it began to reveal more than just beauty. After all, The Wind could only hold the grief and pain of the world for so long. 

So it pins you down in the ferns, around you the tree wilts, and the horror and pain of the world all comes down onto you. Very few can scream for mercy, most lose their voice, their humanity, and everything but the feeling of pain. You drowned in it, a slow excruciating death.

It was an awful way to die, nobody wanted to die that way. But most who encountered this cruel fate, couldn’t help it.

The longing made them sick. Until they couldn’t think straight. Some lost everything but that desperate need to find wonder. It was funny, watching what the longing did to people.

Halene was one of these people. The thought of living without it began to become unbearable. Simple things brought pain, for she only wished them to be full of beauty. That is why it's my job to save her. Or anyone with this destructive desire for life.

Only some can be saved. I can sometimes pull them out of The Wind's merciless arms. In total, fifty-seven people have sought The Wind. Only four had been saved. Little Halene didn’t realize what she was doing when she crept out of her small hut at night and hesitated at the side of the forest. She couldn’t hear me calling for her, begging her to turn around. Her rich chocolate eyes flickered in my direction for only a moment, before she stepped past the border. Into the forest. That was when I started following her. Anybody who crossed that line, well, they never came back. Even if I did save them.

I suppose you might be wondering, why do I do this? Why do I go so close to The Wind? I swore to protect the curious souls. I couldn't bear to see their pain. But physically, I can't do a thing. So when they are being tortured by The Wind, I try to simply take their souls and leave their bodies. While they may still cry, or simply wish for death. They already have it in a way. Their body will remain wherever The Wind deposits it, but their soul is free to roam. Of course, this has only worked four times. And all the souls that leave no longer desire wonder or beauty. They simply wait for their end to come, free of the pain that the others have to endure.

I hope to save Halene, but she is young. Weak. I follow her as we walk through the forest. The trees arch over us, making a path. Her chocolate eyes flick around the woods, taking in everything. She stared at the leaves, lit by the soft moonlight. Reached over and ran her fingers in the crevices of the bark on trees. She stopped after a moment, staring at something that I couldn’t make out. As we got closer I recognized a path of iris flowers. She bent down and stared at them. Her hands shook slightly. Slowly, she reached out and stroked one of the petals. 

“Lavender.” She whispered softly. This shocked me, most don’t speak in the forest. Of course, she was only speaking of the color of the irises.

The dark had taken the vibrance from their petals, and the moonlight had replaced it with a quiet shade of lavender. She stared at those flowers for a long time. I tried to convince her to leave, but she seemed even more deaf to my pleas as we got closer and closer to the willow trees. 

We reached there about four minutes later than the last victim. Halene stopped before she entered the circle of willow trees. And for the first time, she experienced wonder. I could almost feel it. Her mind ran through thousands of possibilities, numbed with the shock and beauty of what lay before her. She dropped to her knees for the first time. She cried with joy. I reached out to touch her, begging, pleading. I went right through her arm as she stared longingly at the willow trees. She stood up slowly. I could almost see her trembling.

She reached out and parted the wall of tendrils. She slipped into the clearing, looking around in amazement as the willow trees surrounded her. I watched, helpless as she slowly sat down on the spongy ferns and flowers. I knew, with a deep feeling of dread. That The Wind was coming. 

Halene couldn’t see The Wind. She was mortal. But I saw it. The Wind was a tall cloaked figure. It was wrapped in an ivory white cloth. Twisted in this cloak's crevices were streaks of color like gray, or lavender. It had no face. Slowly it crept towards Halene. I screamed, I cried. Trying everything to get Halene's attention. I knew how bad she was about to hurt, the agony she was going to have to endure.

Just like the others, she did nothing. The Wind slowly sat down next to her. I saw as it slowly began to whisper into her ear. She didn’t notice it as it started to envelop her. I came closer, trying to find her soul amid the wonder, the joy, and The Wind. The start of the pain.

Her soul was buried too deep. I couldn’t reach it.

Resolve settled in my heart as I sat down. I watched as The Wind began to wrap Halene in its cloak. Halene, lost in wonder, did not see the warning signs. That's when she began to scream. She screamed and screamed until she was in too much pain to scream anymore. Then she went limp. I watched as The Wind slowly crept up her body, it had enveloped everything except her heart. Halene was still alive. Too stuck in the pain and grief of the world to see as The Wind severed her chest and found her heart. I watched as the healthy heart turned to ash at the The Wind's touch. 

Halene went limp, her body no longer rigid with pain, her heart no longer beating. Her soul belonged to The Wind, it could do anything it wanted. I sighed regretfully as I watched. He took it out of her, pulling out a milky white orb, and pushing her body into a creek where she was left to rot.

Halene was one of the many I couldn’t save. She was too foolish to see what was happening. Too happy. But I couldn’t simply leave her. So I did what I always did with the poor victims of The Wind. I found them a flower, and though I couldn’t touch a mortal, I could pluck an iris out of the ground. So I did, and I left that iris over Halene’s heart. 

The one thing that I had always longed for, was to be able to give the victims a gentle caress as they die. I was the only one who understood. I had been a victim. I had looked up at the willow trees in wonder. I had screamed as the pain made me blind. But unlike the others, I ran when my body was dead. Now, the only good I could do was leave flowers on the bodies of the dead.

If there's one thing I learned, nothing good comes without a price.