Lone Wendy: The Girl and the Forest of the Gods (5 page)

I wandered, dead inside, after seeing all of the
bodies torn to shreds. For all of the ferocity that the bandits
held, the mecha dispatched them as nothing more than meat to be
destroyed.

But I had no time to dwell on it as the world spun,
my foot never meeting the ground. I tumbled violently downward
grasping at every bush as I crashed through them, finally managing
to hold onto one. I looked down at the earth disappearing into
thick vegetation, I looked up to find the steep hill I had somehow
missed. I needed to clear my mind. I stopped for a moment to gather
myself.

After awhile, I continued my way down the hill
carefully, passing through dense leafy brush. As I got lower and
lower, I felt the air changing. The plants were greener, thicker.
And a feeling came over me as though the place felt me back. As if
every bush and tree had a knowing. A consciousness tapping into my
own. Slowly the atmosphere darkened, it felt like eyes watched me
from all around. I paused briefly, listening. The last thing I
remember is hearing rustling beside me and turning quickly. A
strike, and numbness permeated my head, dazed, my ears ringing. I
felt my legs buckle and my knees pound into the dirt. Another hit,
and darkness followed.

***

In a forest, a bird call echoes. 'how long have I
been here?' I wonder to myself. I feel wetness strike my face, but
from where? The world suddenly coming to me in swirl and blur, my
dreams still in and out. First I place the sounds, and then my
eyes, barely open, and aching, catch a glimpse of a gnarled vine. I
shake my head gently as a small ruddy hut spins and I struggle to
grasp where I am. Finally I lock onto a pair of golden brown eyes.
My consciousness and focus snapping back instantly. I jump as I’m
shocked awake. Hearing a jingle I look down to find myself sat in a
chair in shackles chained to the floor.

“do not be afraid girl” a distant but hospitable
voice softly says.

I stare at the man, the pain in my head making me
wonder. “what are you going to do with me?” - the unconscious words
slip from my lips.

“That is for our God to decide” the man states
blankly.

“your, God?”

“yes, our God. You come from the machines, do you not
speak with them?” he asks me with some surprise.

Talking to a God? I think to myself, the concept
unfamiliar, and terrifying. “no...” I mumble quietly in a
disconnected demeanor.

“a God you do not speak with,....” he replies with
pause.

We stare at each other for a moment, silently. He
looks as puzzled of me as I am of him.

“we do speak” he breaks the silence with renewed
confidence, gazing at me with a look of compassion, “and with some
luck, you'll soon be on your way...”

Soon men who appear to be guards flood the room. The
man with golden eyes takes his leave, and leaves me alone with
them.

“come with us girl!” one of them snarls, pulling me
up by my chains.

He holds me while another unlocks my shackles.

'The followers of a Mad God, they're going to kill
me, aren't they? And nail me to a tree.' My mind runs wild with the
terrible possibilities.

I stand stiffly as one by one the chains fall. The
guards towering over me. I stare into their eyes, and see only hate
looking back. The last lock undone, I shove the guard in front of
me with all of the force I have, kicking the guard to my side over
as well. I bolt for the door. Breaking the doorway, I feel the sun
on my skin, a swift smack follows, and darkness again.

Again the world slowly appears, again swirling, and
again greeted by golden eyes.

“you're not going to have much of a head left, if you
keep this up girl”

I look at him, my eyes sunken into my head. I feel
sick, sullen, and just wrong. Defeated.

Again, he leaves, again the guards, this time
carrying me off with my chains on. I'm dragged through a small
village, and brought to another small hut. It's primitive, though
kind of charming, and feels like a home. The guards drop me in a
familiar, and rather civilized wooden chair. An old man, appearing
blind, and bordering on ancient shuffles in. He is wearing a long,
dirty, floor length robe. He asks me questions, and rather odd ones
at that. I feel woozy and don't even know what I’m saying, or
remember what I’m being asked.

“I think he's heard enough” the old man crackles.

“he?” I ask.

“our God my dear” He replies.

I suddenly regain my focus. “is he in my head?” I
ask. My voice peaks with fear.

“no, he could never risk contacting you directly,...,
It's a dangerous time for Gods” He replies.

“what do you mean?"

He smiles at my question, and nods to the guards, who
swiftly carry me off.

Weird Old Granny Wes. That's what everyone called
her. And she was weird. Crazy even, but she was nice. Controversy
in private conversation.

Did anyone ever really forget? What we were, who we
used to be? Granny Wes, the oldest woman in our village surely
didn't. She prayed to the old Gods without answer her whole life,
and never stopped believing. Back then I didn't understand what an
old God even was, or why Granny Wes was weird. No one else dared to
pray, but everyone turned a blind eye to Granny. It was against
Valasian law to pray to any deity outside of the machine God. The
punishment was death to all that prayed, and extended to all that
aided the heathens. But no one ever said a thing other than “faith
is the world”. No one ever reported Granny Wes.

-Wendy

I'm dragged off to a cell, a room carved into a hill,
mostly underground. The guards throw me to the floor. Too weak to
rise, I drift into sleep.

Hours of nothing drift by. I open my eyes as the
moonlight shines through a single barred window. It's night, I'm in
a stone room. A wooden bench with a damp sheet to lay on. I pull
myself up, my chains dragging the floor, and fall onto it. More
comfortable than the stone I guess. Three head injuries in two
days, and everyone wants to kill me. I'm hungry, shaking,
disoriented, and can't see that well. I also feel a coldness in the
air, a hint of winter wind blowing through. I guess it's about
fall. I hurt so much. My insides feel twisted, my stomach hollow
and caving in. I look around the cramped dank cell, and fall deeply
into sleep. My only escape.

***

I'm awoken the next morning by the sound of my door
being opened. The guards pulling me to my feet, and marching me
back to that old mans hut. They call him the priest. I wonder what
he wants this time.

He comes in, holding a plate with tea and bread.

“have you eaten?” he asks me pleasantly.

I gently shake my head no.

“People here aren't used to strangers, please, help
yourself.” his shaky hand sits the plate on the table next to me,
and motions to the guards who remove my chains, and leave.

I think about running for a minute, but I don't think
my head can afford it, I gently sit. He sits with me, fumbling to
find everything, his eye lids closed and trembling. I guess he is
blind. I push his tea toward his hand, and he smiles.

We eat and talk for a time. Simple stuff, nothing
serious. He diverts any questions I have about the Gods. I tell him
of my journey, but he already knows, I guess I told him the first
time, though I don't remember. All of the sudden a dog comes
trotting in, he gets up to fetch it a treat, more nimble than
before, almost graceful, no more caution, he moves with
certainty.

“are...are you really blind” I ask, cautiously.

“I am, but you see, ..., the dog has my eyes” He
replies

“What do you mean?” I ask shocked

“this dog here, is the Gods favorite, he loved him
from their first meeting, when he wandered into our woods. The dog
was blind though, missing its eyes completely. So the God asked for
an eye, and I volunteered one of mine, but he needed both. The
follower of a God cannot say no. So now, I see what he sees, many
interesting things.”

I shrink for a moment, and though curious, disregard
my further questions, and ask another.

“Are there followers of the other Gods?”

“Oh my no...” he says meekly.

“Why not?”

“If you go, I'm sure that you'll find out....” He
replies limply

After a time, the guards return and begin to chain
me.

“there's no need for that...” The old priest
creaks.

The men look disgusted at me, and grabbing me by my
shirt, return me to my cell.

***

Later in the day, after hours spent staring out of
the tiny window in my cell, the guards appear again. This time
taking me into the middle of the village. All of the guards leave
but one, a rough man, balding, with crooked teeth. He takes hold of
my shoulders, pulling me in towards him.

“If the old man is going to feed you...” he stares
angrily into my eyes, “you're going to work for it!” he says
harshly.

“Be nice...” a mans voice calls out from around a
fence “she's just a girl”

“wretch is what she is...” I hear him mumble as he
walks away.

I take notice of an ax laying beside a stump.

“Don't even think about it...” the other man snaps,
as he comes around the fence and dumps a heavy load of chopped wood
into my arms.

“take it over there” he demands pointing at a hovel
in the distance.

I move wood from the fenced yard to various places in
the village for a better part of the day. The people of the village
have a familiar form to those that I’m used to. Their clothes are
more primitive, but their faces and builds are nearly the same.
There are others though, mostly men, who come in from the forest.
Armed with spears and armored in leathers, with an ancient and
unfamiliar appearance about them. Something between a well
camouflaged animal, and a statue. A supernatural gleam in their
unblinking eyes.

I feel strange navigating through the daily lives of
these people. Suddenly tossed in among strangers. I feel
disconnected, like a spirit floating among them. Some look angry,
others afraid, but most of them ignore me.

In the evening I pass the man with the golden eyes.
“girl, come sit.” he calls out as I return from dumping a load.

“So are you going to release me?” I ask as I sit.

“Of course, we were never going to keep you. But what
people would let a young one wander into a land so dangerous that
it has consumed all of the greatest warriors who entered? We will
let you go when we know what to do with you. Until then, enjoy your
stay.” He says calmly.

I feel like arguing with him, but instead change the
subject. “The murals around town, what are they?” I ask, genuinely
curious.

“portraits of the Gods painted in tribute by our
artisans” He responds.

“you have many Gods?”

“we have one, but there were many, once.”

“what do you mean, were?”

“these days the Gods are not themselves, they lost a
fight in their minds to darkness”

“is that why the priest wouldn't say anything about
them?”

“we haven't had an outsider in our lands for a long
time, back when we did, we priests would not speak of them”

“But you are...”

“I'm not a priest, anymore, and you don't look like a
machine, or demon”

“which God is yours?”

“Vicstaeres” he points to a mural. Intense eyes
staring out from the waters of a spring, its edges strangled by
vines.

“if that is your God, then why do you have so many
portraits of that one” I point to an intricate portrait of a woman
standing before great trees.

“Felresi, Vicstaeres was once in love with her”

“what happened?” I ask

“The answer is from a time that all have
forgotten...” He stares into the distant woods.

“Don't you think I know what to do with me?” I
re-inject after a pause. “I know how to handle myself”

He smiles towards me. “you're too young to know”, he
waves over a set of guards, “get your rest girl” he says as the
guards grab me by my wrists and pull me back to my cell.

Sometimes I have this dream. It's dark, a cloudy
evening as I stand before this ancient tree, with stones piled
around it's base. I see this pair of eyes, a feeling like I know
them, but they are strange. Then a man stands before me, I can
never see his face, but he rests his hand warmly on mine. I feel a
certain love run through me, and raise my head to look upon him,
but lightning flashes, blurring him out, and I always awaken before
I can.

I've only had this dream a few times in my life, but
here I have it almost everyday. Though it's just a dream, I long to
know him some day.