Lone Wendy: The Girl and the Forest of the Gods (2 page)

Read Lone Wendy: The Girl and the Forest of the Gods Online

Authors: D E Dunn

Tags: #adventure, #robot, #journey, #journal, #other worlds, #first person, #sorcerer, #mecha, #pov

BOOK: Lone Wendy: The Girl and the Forest of the Gods
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“well have you slayed the giant yet!” he waltzes into
the room to stare me down, cronies in toe.

 

Duke. A large man, balding, with wild eyes, and a
squared smirk on his wrinkled face. A well known town leader, or in
my opinion, village idiot, we've taken stabs at each other for as
long as I can remember.

 

“I'm still deciding which giant should go down” I say
to him sarcastically, as if eying him as a giant – which he is, in
waist anyway.

 

His smugness turns to anger, and he looks me down
like today is the day that he'll finally do me in. His face
tightening, his eyes beady. His anger building as we stay locked in
a gaze. Suddenly the tone is broken as the old shopkeeper returns,
and hands me my load, and bill. I pay It quickly while the other
patrons eye me. Some of them smile, in a mean way. A few spout out
some kind of ribbing from back in their day, they think they're
funny. And some look upon me solemnly, as if I’m a dumb kitten,
hell bent on killing myself from stupidity. It's never easy, to
pretend I like these people. They certainly don't pretend with
me.

 

The people aren't all bad though, some are quite
nice. But when you go around spouting nonsense that most are afraid
to even think about, the average reaction is to hate you. The world
is not the same now. I grew up in a time of peace and harmony. The
machinists of Valasia are the most advanced kingdom on the planet.
They treated us like slaves and prisoners. But for all of the bad
things that machines brought, they also brought stability. A
massive army, unkillable mecha, a barrier that pushed back the old
Gods power, and unparalleled infrastructure. They built towns,
roads, and factories that brought work. We depended on them for
almost everything, and now with them gone the kingdom has fallen
apart. Many without jobs. Only the few and poorly equipped town
guards to defend us. No word from our king, or any news from the
outside. And worst of all, bandits roam freely, and the old Gods
enraged by centuries of betrayal and neglect, are rumored to have
set their terrible power upon us as well. I want to do something
about it. What I don't know. Some myths here and there, a rebellion
to join, it all strikes terror into me. And yet if we do nothing,
we'll burn like all of the others. That's were I take odds with
everyone, they hope to hunker down and wish for the best, too
afraid to act, and equally afraid to do nothing, but it's easier.
And, “something has to kill you”, right?

 

 

 

Journal

 

In the trees, I’m understood. No one speaking, and
yet listening, and that's all I need. To be heard, without
criticism. All that I think, and believe, may not be right, but
it's not so wrong. I want, I need, encouragement. To think that all
that is my life, what I believe in, is worth something. To have
someone understand. To have help. Anyone. Anything. Who knows how I
feel.

 

-Wendy

 

 

Part 2
Understanding

 

I sit alone in the forest, my back against a huge old
tree. This is my spot, my place to be when the world is
overwhelming. I meditate, drawing comfort from my mind as the
clouds sail by. I usually sit here unwinding from the common jabs
of the village. When I was younger I played with the other kids and
felt accepted. Everyone gave my mom a look, something between
disdain and pity, and I never knew why when they were so nice to
me. But as I grew and longed to let my wild spirit free I would
catch the same looks being cast at me. Over time the village began
to shun me as well, and those I knew as friends mocked and hated
me. I wandered the village alone looking for a place to belong.
Soon the empty library became my place to be, but it lacked
something, the peace of the open world that only the woods could
bring. The breeze drowning out the frowns and smirks. But today is
different. The wind blows and I see flames leaping. The grasses
roll like scattering ashes. Months ago I had heard of unrest and
travesty, but the realness of it never hit me until I saw a village
burning. I close my eyes and push my worries aside for a time. But
before I know it, it's dusk. The world dimming through my closed
eyes. My time is over.

 

I stretch, gather myself, and head for home, cutting
through the forest to get there quicker. Walking along plowing
through the thicket with the grace of a boulder, I finally find the
path that I was looking for, when suddenly a hand grabs my arm,
twisting it behind my back, another hand swoops in around my mouth
and pulls my head back tightly. Just as I begin to panic, a
familiar voice.

 

“Wendy?” a man sighs as his grip loosens and frees
me. “what are you doing so far out here?”

 

Through a strangers eyes he is a tall man, wearing a
dressy coat over his armor. A warm smile, sad eyes, on a face you
could trust. To the townspeople, he is ex royal guard, and head of
our town guard. A man to be respected and feared. To me, a man I
know well, Wil, a friend.

 

“I was thinking, before you tried to kidnap me” I
joke with a smile

 

“It's not safe this close to the boundary” he says
unimpressed

 

“I don't live that far from here”

 

“yeah, well... you're unlucky”

 

“you mean poor” I quip

 

“Same thing. Come on, I'll walk you back to the old
road”

 

We walk together chatting leisurely, catching up. He
tries to bring up my mom every other sentence, his love who just
happens to ignore him completely. When we get to the road, I feel
awkward. I want to tell him goodbye, that I'm leaving to find our
salvation, but will he understand?

 

“Are you alright?” he asks

 

“yeah, why?” I answer shaken

 

“I read the report, It's not any sight for a kid”

 

“And I'm a kid?” I question playfully

 

We both smile.

 

“we're next aren't we?” I ask after a minute of
pause.

 

“Probably” He states plainly.

 

“are you ready?” I ask.

 

“You're never ready for a battle, they just kind of
happen”

 

“not even with that? I tease him pointing to the
pistol sticking out of his vest.

 

“no” he sighs as he tucks it away.

 

“Where did you get a gun anyway, I thought they were
illegal”

 

He grabs my shoulder and leans in “I looted it, and
they are illegal, so don't tell anyone” He gives me a Stern
gaze.

 

“so what are we going to do?” I ask

 

He looks at his feet, taking a rigid pose, “go home
Wendy”

 

“I just want to help!” I reply feeling shunned.

 

He shakes his head and begins to walk away.

 

“I'm leaving!” I blurt out - “you're not going to see
me for awhile”

 

He stops, turning back towards me. “Wendy, you're not
going” he says with a fatherly tone.

 

“I am!” I scream out.

 

“No you're not” He tilts his head imposing himself
over me.

 

“Why not?” I ask as I stare directly into his
eyes.

 

“because it's dangerous-”

 

“so what?” I interrupt

 

“...and stupid” he continues flatly.

 

I feel my face washing over with disappointment, a
crutch kicked out from under me. “if anyone understood, I thought
it would be you”

 

“I do” – he says as he pulls an ornate dagger from
his vest

 

“This dagger is among the best made in the world. It
was given to me for serving with excellence in the royal guard by
the king himself” - he hands it to me.

 

I grasp it unsurely at first, but sliding it out of
its sheath, the power of it hums through me and I feel a certain
physical memory take hold. A confidence building. I've always felt
right with a weapon in my hand, I can't say why.

 

“Consider that your anchor.”

 

“What?” I ask inquisitively.

 

“A reason to stay. If you want to help, join the
guards, be a warrior.”

 

I snicker at the thought – “they would never let a
girl join the guards.”

 

“'They' might not even exist anymore, and the town
counsel will do what I say”

 

“I can't even fight”

 

“You can, a little training and you'd be worth ten
guards. You could even be better than me...”

 

I smile at the compliment and fall into him with a
hug. As he wraps his arms around me I can feel his joy. But my body
shivers, a coldness growing within me, I'm leaving and I don't want
to hurt him. I know he feels it as his grip loosens, the feeling of
joy fading.

 

“you're not going to stay, are you?” he asks
coldly.

 

I shake my head as I pull away. We gaze at each other
blank and speechless for a moment, before I gesture handing him
back the dagger.

 

“Keep it, just think about it OK.”

 

I can feel his pain, disappointment. “goodbye” I say
with a half smile.

 

“Not goodbye, I'll see you again.” - he says as I
turn and walk away.

 

“If your mom finds that dagger!”, he yells behind me,
“you stole it!”

 

 

 

Journal

 

“you can't go!” my mom ekes out in worry, “it's
dangerous, you'll die!”

 

The common rhetoric.

 

“it's dangerous” one will say.

 

“you're too young” another will flap.

 

As I gaze upon them, eyes wanting, with a young
smile, disbelieving 'whatever' they say.

 

I won't die. I feel I can't.

 

Yet that is just the beginning of the worry, no
mention of the end.

 

It's not my worry but my journey that concerns
me.

 

One day soon I will tame a God, and laugh at them for
ever doubting me.

 

-Wendy

 

 

Part 3
Hurt

 

I sit at the edge of the big bay window in the lounge
area of the labor house, no one here but me, alone in the dark. I
stare into the vast dimensions of the black and grey forest, and
huff to myself in pity.

 

The big town meeting was tonight. I went and sat
there quietly as the worried citizens droned on about nothing.
Village life, gossip, and plans to fix up this and that. I wanted
to discuss our impending doom, but no one seemed willing. Wil
wasn't even there like he was supposed to be, he was out on night
patrol.

 

Finally I couldn't take it anymore, slowing rising as
my mom tried to make me sit back down. I was polite at first trying
to get their attention and say my peace, but they ignored me. Anger
building, I had had it with all of them.

 


Her fingers singed and bleeding!”
I screamed
as loud as I could, everyone staring shocked at me.
“Her throat
was cut, eyes rolled back into her head, her clothes tattered,
tossed dead like meat with everyone else in the town as it
burned!”

 

“Did you see it?” I asked as I tried to calm myself.
“it haunts my dreams, and it's coming for all of us.”

 

It was the best possible way to start the discussion.
I had everyone’s attention at that point, everyone’s angry
attention. I tried to continue in a more reasonable fashion when I
was asked if I was finished. The hall silent as the grave accept
for the gossip about me, everyone's eyes glaring, my mom holding
her head down in shame. It was a stuffy chamber full of nosy busy
bodies, complainers, and monotonous old men.

 

I wasn't finished, I went on, about readying the
guard, allying the rebellion, and finding the God Slayer. A
mythical shard rumored to have the power to control the Gods. I
read about it in an ancient looking book in the back of the
library. A remnant artifact that could bow the Gods to the will of
its user. I've planned to go find it ever since. Mentioning it to
such an audience though, proved to be my most fatal mistake.

 

Just about everyone laughed as I stood there. When
they composed themselves, Duke and the other town leaders couldn't
help but make fun of me, while the others in the room looked
crooked at me.

 

It was no place for dreamers. It's a town of
unreasonable people set in their ways.

 

I looked around, most looked away, others looked upon
me with disdain.

 

I was alone there. At that point I could have either
screamed like a fool, yelling at useless people, sat and
surrendered myself, or stormed out like a child. I chose the
latter, the best of three bad options.

 

Staring into the dark world now I can't help but hate
everyone, and want to run into the woods forever. But what good
would that do? So I just sit here simmering, until I see the shadow
of my mom coming through the darkness. I hear the door slam hard,
and I know I'm in for it.

 

She confronts me, we argue, she cries. And then the
deadening question - "WHY? Why do you want to go?" The question
asked in a tone as if I hated her, and was in a hurry to leave. But
in that moment I could see it. My town burned, house sacked, the
bodies splayed out before me, with that stare into nothingness look
upon them, dead on the floor.

 

I muster all I have to give this as my reason, but it
hurts. To see my mom broken into tears already, I just feel myself
fighting back the tears as well. I hold my tongue, and stare like
an impudent child. All too aware of the dumb look on my face.

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