Samantha and the Wind (Conclusion)

The climb was tiring, and it took all of the might of Samantha’s small frame to get her to the crest of the hill. There, by a pair of maple trees, was the Wind. It was neither like a man or a woman, but it was certainly old and grizzled, but as it turned to face Samantha, it became young and vibrant. And, it was wearing Samantha’s hat.

“Do you like the hat?” it asked mockingly “It is a poor fit, but I’m sure it will stretch.” All about the hilltop were kites, hats, leaves, and dead birds.

“Give it back.” said Samantha softly, the way a taxman would speak when he came to collect debts that were due. She felt surprisingly composed and confident. That changed when the Wind began to roar.

“It is mine, and do not take it! I will strip the skin from your bones if you take what is mine!” screamed the Wind with all the gusto of a spoiled child. Samantha felt the intense cold of the arctic and the terrible heat of the desert as the Wind ranted. Its voice shook the forest, sending birds into flight despite the dimness of dawn.

Elsewhere in the forest, Justice and Vibrius stopped arguing and started running, letting their combined knowledge of their home guide their swift footsteps. Each prayed there was something that could be done; clouds were gathering, and the Wind was marshalling all of its power.

“I am eternal,” boasted the Wind as Samantha began to cower. “I have seen man build his world, and I have turned it to dust again and again. I am as strong as the sea and as fierce as flame. I am the Wind, and you are just a child.” Samantha felt herself being pushed back, and she tried her best to keep her footing.

Justice and Vibrius crashed through Livia’s glade, startling her. Seeing Justice, she asked, “Do you know how to dance?”

“No.” yelled Justice as he added “There’s no music, and there’s no time. There’s a girl to save. Come with us if you want to help.” Justice disappeared down the same trail that Samantha had disappeared on, and suddenly, Livia discovered that she was able to follow.

“It is mine!” yelled Samantha, her voice lost in the howling of the Wind. Dust scraped her skin and she could hear the creaking of the maples. She wondered how long they would stay rooted. “It was a gift, and it is dear to me!” she yelled. The Wind laughed in response, sending Samantha falling backwards into Vibrius’ arms.

“Stop this!” cried Vibrius, and the Wind stopped its fury, standing with a scowl on its face.

“Why should I?” asked the Wind childishly.

“Because we can bargain.” Vibrius pulled his mask off and offered it to the Wind. The Wind snatched the smiling mask from Vibrius and howled with delight. “Now the trolls will never accept you!” taunted the Wind as it tossed Samantha’s hat to the ground. “You are a fool, Vibrius! A great fool! Soon, they will never allow a half-breed in their ranks. A fool, a fool!” The Wind pranced and hollered, and then it took to the air, rustling the leaves as it went.

Justice, helping Livia to the hill top, arrived to see Vibrius’ stern, human face. He watched as the half-troll dusted off Samantha’s hat and put it on her head. Livia squeezed Justice’s arm with delight.

“You look well.” said Justice.

“Thank you.” said Vibrius. “I had to do something so that I could get some sleep tonight.” he was lying, and everyone knew because he was smiling.

Slow as the dawn, they descended the hill and walked through the forest as the sun rose into the sky. Justice and Livia retired in a comfortable crypt that Justice called home, and Vibrius left Samantha at the forest’s edge.

“I’m sorry you had to give up your mask.” said Samantha. She wanted to say it before she said good bye.

“I didn’t really want it anymore.” said Vibrius. “I’m done trying to be something other than what I am.” He wanted to say that he had a friend now, and that he didn’t have to try to be friendly with the trolls anymore, but he kept that to himself. “All in all, we made out fairly well.”

“Well, thank you.” said Samantha as she walked back home. She looked back to see Vibrius, and he stood stoically by the forest’s edge until she could no longer see him. With her hat on her head, she opened the window that lead to her bedroom, and furtively snuck in.

The light of day grew,

banishing the night again.

Bringing a new day.

Samantha and The Wind (Part Five)

Willingly, like a marionette, Samantha turned away from the grim scene. She held on to the woman’s hand tightly as she guided Samantha to a glade where the moon shone brilliantly.

When she felt safer and more secure, Samantha shyly asked “Who are you?”

“I am Livia, the Moondancer.” replied the woman with gentle nod. Samantha looked at herself and felt shabby. She also felt envy for the first time in her life, certain that she could never be as beautiful or graceful as Livia.

“Do you know the Wind? Do you know where it comes from, or, more importantly, where it goes to?” Samantha pronounced her words carefully, with great awareness to annunciation. Livia’s eyes glanced upwards and she extended her finger to the sky, and then lowered it to indicate a hill on the horizon.

“There is where the Wind goes, and there is where the Wind leaves.” Samantha glanced at the mound in the distance. It didn’t seem very far away, in fact she was certain she could arrive there before dawn, if she could follow a straight path. Her musing was interrupted by the clacking of horse hooves. She turned to see a horse-headed man riding a man-headed horse.

“Moondancer, I have come for your hand.” announced the horse-headed man. The man-headed horse whinnied, and Samantha felt confused. The androcephalic beast glared at her with a blank stare.

“Excuse me.” she interjected, trying not to be rude. “I was having a conversation with Livia, and I do not think we were finished.” The horse-headed man laughed deeply and pushed Samantha from his way. Enraged, Samantha stomped the ground and the man-headed horse responded by scraping his hoof across the ground.

“Can you dance?” asked Livia, seemingly entranced by the horse-headed man.

“I can waltz, I can tango, and I can do many country dances.” he responded.

“Then we will dance.” announced Livia.

“But to what music?” he asked. Samantha wondered the same thing, and the man-headed beast, wondering nothing, inspected the grass.

“You can’t hear it?” Livia asked as her body began to sway like a reed.

“I can,” lied the horse-headed man, mimicking Livia’s swaying. He reached for her with large, rough hands, but she twirled out of his grasp. Samantha watched as the dance continued, watching the horse-headed man’s frustration rising. His feet tangled around each other as he tripped along, trying to dance to music he could not hear. He could not comprehend the tempo of the music that Livia danced to.

Repeatedly, he tried to ensnare her in his arms, but she moved like electricity through water; fluid and fast. Her pace quickened, and the horse-headed man began to sweat. She leapt into the air, and he bounded. She spun and swung out her arms, and he felt his legs weakening.

“Isn’t the Moon’s Symphony magnificent?” Livia asked with a taunt in her voice.

“Yes, yes!” replied the horse-headed man breathlessly, his heart sending tremors through his chest. Samantha saw the joy in Livia’s eyes, and she understood that there was no music. If there was music, only Livia could hear it. The dance continued its frantic pace, until the horse-headed man fell to one knee. His beast shook its head and let out an equine sigh.

“Can you go on?” asked Livia casually, twirling about in a circle, light as a bubble. She offered her hand to the man, but he refused. Holding his side and panting, he mounted his steed, his eyes burry and head spinning. His entire body seemed weighed down with failure. As he disappeared in the night, Livia sighed.

“Never, not ever.” she said, mostly to herself.

“Why did you do that?” asked Samantha curiously.

“You will understand when you are older.” Livia remarked dismissively, darkened by a melancholy. Hanging her head, she seemed less beautiful, certainly less radiant.

“I’m perfectly capable of understanding now.” said Samantha, realizing how much she sounded like a child. As Livia spoke, Samantha started to worry that she would not understand.

“In searching for a mate, I cannot simply take whoever comes along. They must be truthful, smart, sensitive, and fit. That trial will prove who is and is not all of those things. It seems as though some consider me a prize to be won, and I need more than that, you see? It is my curse.” Her words were soft and sad, and they tugged at Samantha’s heart. She had heard of curses, but never one so terrible.

“I cannot leave until the one I am meant to be with comes here and passes the trial.” Livia’s face was awash with melancholy; she seemed about to cry as she wrapped her willowy arms around herself. Standing on her tip-toes, Samantha hugged Livia and tried to console her.

“I know that he will come along soon. What is meant to be cannot never be.” she said, feeling wise beyond her years. In truth, the words were not her own, but her father’s. However, it felt so gratifying to say them.

“You won’t leave me here, will you?” asked Livia as she stroked Samantha’s red hair. “You could forget the Wind, and you could stay here with me. You are just the right age to be my daughter. I could show you such wondrous things.” As she extended a hand, a pellucid orchid began to grow from Livia’s palm. Its roots wound around her wrist and reached for the ground, while its petals unfolded in a moonlight reverie.

“No. I have to find the Wind, and I have to take back what it stole from me.” said Samantha. She hated to say it, but she could not delay any more. Besides, she reasoned that she had her own home and family, and they would be worried if she did not return home.

“I knew you would leave.” said Livia, her skin becoming dark and shadowy. “Let the Wind take you.” said Livia, her eyes cold as clay. Samantha did not linger, and she bore her guilt like a back pack as she hiked up the path which lead to the steep slope of the hill on the horizon. Livia watched, her heart filled with hate, and her breath filled with curses. Yet, when Samantha disappeared from sight, all of Livia’s hatred and peevishness turned to abysmal sadness and anguish, tempered with disappointment.

Samantha and The Wind (Part Four)

The forest closed in on Samantha from all sides. As moonlight became more and more sparse, the forest became more and more quiet. Her pace slowed as she started to feel tired from her journey. She didn’t dare sleep on the ground, fearing that a snake would bite her, or a bug would poison her. She considered climbing a tree, but would never dare sleep so high off the ground for fear of falling. What she wanted was a bed, but they were in short supply.

When she decided that at least a fire would be nice, she saw the orange glow of one in the distance. She approached as quietly as she could manage, letting the darkness be her friend. As she drew closer, she could hear music and see tall shapes dancing around the fire. The creatures were like Vibrius in shape, but they did not wear masks: their faces bore unsettling smiles that spread from ear to ear. Their eye balls seemed to float inside of sockets that were too large for them, and bounced slightly as the forest folk leapt and cavorted.

“Food is glorious!” one announced. He seemed to be the eldest. The others shouted his name in praise, crying “Tula! Tula! Tula!” Stroking his long, web-like beard, he held a small, reddish something in his hand. Samantha had never seen a heart outside of a person before, but she had an inkling of what it might look like, and suspected it was quite similar to what Tula held in his hand. She wished to have no part of it.

“We will eat flesh!” cried Tula, and the others responded with gleeful shouts of “Tula! Tula! Tula!” Samantha slinked away, as quietly as a sleek, white cat. While the shadows concealed most of her, the light from the fire reflected off of her pale skin. And the grins of the forest folk grew wider. For a moment, there was a silence just like the one before the universe was made. Eyes glistened in the firelight, and Samantha’s right foot was stepping backwards. She could feel the soft ground as her foot touched it, and then there was a roar like the universe being birthed.

Long fingered hands grasped for her dress, reached for her long red hair. Dull, thudding footsteps rumbled after her like an earthquake. Her short stature and small frame gave her an edge, as the forest was thick with trees. She squeezed between trunks and darted down a ravine, tumbling head over heel and landing hard on the ground.

“Follow! Give chase! Get closer and get food!” shouted Tula, cheering on the forest folk as they ran helter-skelter through the woods, scraping their claws across the trees as the went. Samantha felt the world growing dimmer as the forest folk stood at the edge of the ravine, hissing like serpents.

When she woke, the forest folk were gone, but in their place was a terrible stench and the dim light of stars overhead. The earth on which Samantha rested was soft in spots and hard in others. As she reached out with her hands, she swore she could feel a cold, lifeless nose. In the darkness, she could make out faces and hands. She stifled a scream as she realized she was in an open mass grave. Around her, half eaten and desiccated bodies were rotting. Samantha knew that they were the remnants of Tula’s hunger; first she fought against a scream, and then she fought against tears. She moved gingerly across the grisly floor and slowly pulled herself from the shallow ravine.

Looking down at the mass of bodies, she lost the fight against her tears, and she began to sob. A cool, iridescent hand caressed her face. Even through her blurring tears, the woman looked beautiful, although her proportions were slightly strange, as though she had been slightly elongated. Rubbing her tears from her eyes, she gasped at how beautiful the woman was.

“Come away from there, child,” she said in a soft, sweet voice that reminded Samantha of her mother singing a lullaby. “This is not something you should see.”

Samantha and the Wind (Part Three)

“Well,” said Justice, his eyes looking upwards, then sideways. “You’re a child, a female, and that makes you a girl, right?” When his eyes fell on Samantha, she was surprised at their uncertainty. It was as though Justice had forgotten too much of what it was like to be alive.

“Of course I am.” responded Samantha, wondering if she should be unsure. She noticed that she was fidgeting with her fingers, which her mother always told her not to do.

“Well, a girl is nearly a woman, and,” Justice’s pause was uncomfortable in length. Samantha was filled with loathsome anticipation before he said, “I’d really like to know what a woman likes. If a woman could think I was handsome, or maybe what she’d like to do.”

Samantha exhaled with relief. While she was no expert on what women thought, she was happy that Justice didn’t have a more lascivious request. Cheerily, she answered, saying “A woman likes a man that is kindly; one that is willing to treat her well.”

“But there has to be more!” said Justice obsessively. “I have tried being kind. I have tried listening. I have tried being a friend. Yet all of these have failed. She must look for more than that. What else! Tell me!” His eyes widened in a maniac stare, his teeth ground together; it was as though he stood in front of a treasure that he had sought all of his life, and now it was his for the taking.

“Well, some women aren’t attracted to just any man. Some have an ideal in mind.” Samantha was proud to say such a mature thing, but when she saw how crestfallen Justice had become, she wondered if she said the wrong thing. His entire face drooped like a wet sack and his shoulders bowed as though bearing a thousand pounds.

“Oh.” he said desponded, “That’s what I thought. I’m ugly.” His chin wrinkled like a prune as he held back a sob. Samantha’s spine straightened and she pounded her foot against the ground with a soft thud.

“I didn’t say that.” she announced, angered by how he twisted her words. Her cheeks glowed red and her brow was creased with frustration. “You just might not be what she thinks of as handsome. The world has a lot of people.”

“Then you think I’m handsome?” he asked, his hands reaching out for hers. Gently, he held her hand and stroked its back with his cold fingers. “Do you?” His dark eyes pleaded with her.

“I, um…” Samantha’s mind whirled, unable to find an answer that she was sure was not wrong. He was handsome enough, but she feared that if she said so, that he’d get the wrong idea. On one knee, he was the same height as her, and she tried to stop herself from wincing when she smelled the charnel scent about him.

“I am trying to sleep!” announced an irritated voice. It was the stranger in the smiling mask. The murmurings of Samantha and Justice had been irritating him for quite a while. Unlike others of his kind, he had very sensitive hearing, and he had become fed up with their whispers, which to him were like shouts. He towered over Justice, and Samantha found herself wondering if he had been that large before.

“I apologize, Vibrius, I didn’t know that you were so close.” said Justice, cowering like a supplicant. “I was just asking this young woman what she thought of me.”

“I know. I could hear your prattling tongue from a mile away. You really should not drag this poor, young thing into your pitiful obsession.” reprimanded Vibrius, who placed a hand protectively on Samantha’s shoulder. “A man like you should not ask such things of a child.”

“Well, I needed to know why Livia does not love me yet. I thought another woman’s perspective would help.” explained Justice. He hung his head ashamedly and kicked at the dirt like a scolded child. Samantha was glad that Vibrius had come to her aid, but she also felt bad that she couldn’t help Justice.

“I think you are a good-looking man, but there is something about you that frightens me.” she said calmly and quietly. Vibrius and Justice both looked at Samantha with astonishment in their eyes.

“What is it!?” exclaimed Justice as he fell to his knees, reaching for the hem of Samantha’s skirt. With a mighty slap, Vibrius knocked Justice’s hands away, causing him to collapse to the ground. “I need to know! Tell me! What’s wrong with me?” his voice broke in sobs and weeps, and tears flowed in great, salty gouts from his eyes, muddying the dirt below. Samantha pulled the hem of her dress out of the groveling man’s grasp and wrapped her arms around Vibrius’ hand and wrist.

“Feh.” scoffed Vibrius, shaking his head at Justice’s display. “Why don’t you be a man about this? Willows weep less than you do.”

“I can’t help it,” responded Justice through a veil of sobs and pitiful moans, “Love does strange things to a man’s mind and heart. He becomes thirsty for it if he has gone without it too long, and I have been walking in the desert of loneliness for far too long. My heart feels so numb, ripped, and torn…”

“Makes me glad that I can’t love.” interrupted Vibrius, a smile hidden beneath his smiling mask and revealed only by the tone of his voice.

“You are intolerable!” admonished Justice, thrusting a finger through the air, pointing at Vibrius with menace. “An unfeeling monster, that’s what you are. Your own people cast you out.”

“So did yours.” responded Vibrius. “We’ve been through all of this before, so if you are done, sleep calls to me. I’d like to have some before the new day dawns.” Passively Samantha watched as the two argued, feeling herself becoming fearful that there would be a fight. For a moment, she felt bad for causing the argument, but then she realized that she was not at the root of the issue. What they argued about, while connected to her presence, went far beyond anything to do with her existence.

She released her grasp on Vibrius’ arm and slowly skulked away as the pair continued arguing, oblivious of her departure. Samantha felt freedom perch proudly on her shoulder as she walked deep into the darkness, clambering carefully from glimmering moonbeam to shimmering moonbeam as they poked through the forest’s canopy. Glee filled her as she confidently walked on a soft bed of pine needles, letting their calming scent fill her nose.

Samantha and the Wind (Part Two)

Deeper and deeper they walked in the forest. The stranger moved with the ease of a mountain goat on a cliff side, but Samantha stumbled and tripped over the winding bunches of roots that probed the forest floor. She wondered how the stranger moved so swiftly in the darkness, but she would not ask him, frightened as she was of his temper.
“This is home.” announced the stranger, pointing at a hollow in a tree trunk. Samantha squinted, struggling to see what the stranger was pointing at. “You seem too weak to be able to do anything to me, but I have learned not to make assumptions. You will enter first, and I will follow.”

Samantha felt panic rising in her stomach. She worried that the stranger was as evil as he seemed, that he intended to eat her. She studied the opening in the tree and considered how she could enter it, but still be afforded a chance at escape if it was a trap.

“You can stay or you can go, but I am tired and need to rest. I am slowly caring less and less about your fate.” pronounced the stranger, as if he were a judge passing sentence. “Decide now.”

“I won’t,” said Samantha, wondering if she would regret the decision. The stranger rolled his eyes and pushed past the hesitant girl. Extending a foot into the hollow, the stranger’s body began to twist and warp as he squatted into the hole. Filling the hollow as snugly as a cork in a bottle, the stranger yawned.

“If you don’t want to come into my home, I won’t be hurt.” announced the stranger in a morose tone. He tried to obscure his sadness, brushing his hands past his eyes. “You can sleep here, and if anything comes to harm you, I will kill it and protect you.”

Samantha considered the stranger’s offer, but her fear of him weighed heavily on her decision.

“I cannot. Since I have come this far, I need to finish my journey.” she said, trying to seem brave. She could think of no better way to decline the stranger’s offer without hurting his feelings further.

“Stay or go; I made the offer and will not make it again.” said the stranger with a wide yawn. Slowly, he began to meld with the tree. A crackling, creaking sound came from the tree as the stranger’s body disappeared. Only the smiling mask remained visible, embedded deeply into the tree’s bark. “Go North. The Moondancer will likely suit you more than me. She is beautiful, not like me. She is more like you, more like a human. I’m sure you’ll think that’s a good thing.”

“What do you mean by that?” asked Samantha, but the stranger would speak no more. She considered taking the Stranger’s mask and using it to disguise herself. She was certain that he must be the most fearsome thing in the woods, and appearing like him might have gotten her out of a tight spot, however, she could not reduce herself to stealing. Slowly, she walked away from the stranger, glancing back before the darkness swallowed both him and his home.
The night was getting colder, and Samantha wrapped her arms around herself to try to keep warm. She stood, not quite knowing which way was North. She considered going back to ask the stranger, but she felt that he would heed her no more. The trees around her groaned, swayed in the breeze. As their leaves parted, small beams of moonlight glistened on the ground, eventually falling on an enormous stone some distance away.

It was a tall, black obelisk that pointed unerringly to the sky. It looked older than anything Samantha had seen before; the writing on it was indecipherable in the dimness of the night, but even if it was afternoon, she would not be able to read it. The language was older than mankind, and far beyond the ken of such an innocent lass.

“Child.” called the fragile voice of a man. He was young by adult standards, but Samantha considered him a grown-up. His clothes were worn and baggy, his eyes sunken and intense. His pallid skin seemed iridescent in the shimmering moonlight. He regarded her suspiciously, then knelt beside the obelisk. “You are a child, yes?”

Samantha fiddled her fingers together, unsure of how to answer. She watched as the man produced a mirror from within the folds of his cloak.

“What do you see?” he asked, holding the mirror out to Samantha.

“I don’t see anything. It is too dark, and the mirror is black.” Samantha’s face showed a puzzled expression that was matched by that of the man. “To answer your question, yes, there are those that would think of me as a child.” she tried to keep her statement vague; she did not want to be eaten, and she remembered that children often are eaten by witches and monsters.

“Ah, a living child. That is novel. I haven’t seen one in many centuries.” said the man matter-of-factly. He withdrew the mirror and tucked it into the shadows of his cloak, amongst other strange tools that Samantha could not identify.

“I am Samantha.” said Samantha, holding out her hand and fighting the urge to say Will you be my friend?.

“I am Justice. I used to have a last name, but I lost need of it. There aren’t many spirit-whisperers named Justice in these parts.”

“A spirit-whisperer?” asked Samantha.

“Yes. As in, I whisper to spirits. I am a friend to the dead; I give them consul when they need it, help them when I can. You’d be surprised how many dead folk don’t know they’re dead yet.” Justice’s chest swelled with the pride of an accomplished professional that has been recognized for his superb work. A crooked smile invaded his face.

“How can someone not know they are dead?” inquired Samantha, trying to wrap her mind around the concept of being dead and not knowing it. She suddenly shuddered, wondering if she was dead and did not know it.

“Usually they are young souls; the sort of people that go through life without recognizing the value of each day. They get caught-up in the peace and comfort of monotony and simply continue trying to do what they did while they were alive.”

“How can you help them?”

“When I show them the mirror, they see their form. From there, I help them get to where they want, or need, to go. One needed to come here, and that is why I’m here. This monument can send a spirit on to the next world. So that’s what I’m doing in these woods at night. What about you, Young Miss?”

“The wind stole my best hat, and I tried to find it. I didn’t so much get lost as wander too far. Now it is dark and I can’t find my way.” said Samantha.

“And you want help to get out now, huh?” asked the man. A knowing smile traced across his face, and it made Samantha feel like she was being told what to do. She hadn’t decided if she really wanted to leave the forest and abandon her hat to the wind. First the stranger told her of the danger and bade her stay until morning and then turn back, and then Justice asked her if she wanted to leave. She started to feel very unwelcome. Spotting Samantha’s flaring temper, Justice threw up his hands pleadingly.

“I didn’t mean anything by that. I just assumed that you didn’t want to be in the forest. It was my assumption that you were lost; now-a-days nobody comes to this burial ground except for me.” Samantha was amused by Justice’s sudden humility, but she didn’t let it show on her face.

“I’m not lost,” she said insistently, “I just need to figure out where I need to go from here.”

“Well, if you need help, I can help you.” offered Justice. The knowing smile was on his face again, but it did not grow as wide. It was clear to Samantha that the man had something on his mind.

“At a price, I suppose. If anything, I’ve learned that there is little in life to be had that is free.” she said sternly, her feet together and waggling her finger. She could hear her mother’s voice over her own. ‘Nothing in life is free’ was one of her mother’s favorite lectures – ‘Don’t trust a banker’ and ‘Procrastination is not worth it’ were a close second and third, respectively. For a moment, Samantha wondered if her mother had ever been in a situation like her own.

“Well, not a large price.” said Justice, averting his eyes as he said so. “Just a small bit of information, really. A trifle, if you will.” Clasping his hands together, he leaned in closer to Samantha. She could smell the scent of the woods on him, as well as something bitter that she did not recognize and found most displeasing.

“What is it?” asked Samantha, “And mind you, I haven’t agreed to anything yet.” she added shrewdly.

Samantha And The Wind (Part One) (Thing-A-Week 4)

Well, Thing-A-Week is slowly becoming a resounding failure. It has helped me realize how my writing patterns ebb and flow. When I have the deadline, I feel naturally compelled to flirt with it. And, as with all things, nothing goes as expected.

For example: I was supposed to finish this story today, but, as it was Saturday, I had errands to run. I had also scheduled a game of minis with my friends, and figured that I’d be back home by 8 or 10. My grand plan was to write for a couple hours, and then post right on time.

Well, I got caught up in having fun. It is very seldom that I get together with friends to have fun and games, so it was hard for me to even think of saying no.

As such, I have another fragment. UGH. At least I have something…
*********************
Samantha raced across a field of waving green grass. Her hat, a gift from her father, sailed on the wind. With her short arms and legs, she could not hope to catch up to it; she was only a child, and a child was no match for the wind. Yet, she would not waver. Letting her feet carry her as fast as they could, her hair trailed after her like curling, red fire. Nearly tumbling head over heel as she passed over the top of the hill, she saw the forest looming ahead.
“No! Come back!” she shouted, but the wind was heedless of her pleas. As she drew near the forest, Samantha’s pace slowed. She watched helplessly as the wind took her hat over the thick, old trees. For a moment, she contemplated the tangle of grey, winding roots and wondered if she could still catch her hat. She warily took a step forward. She had been forbidden from going into the forest; her father told her that evil things dwelled there. The branches, waving in the wind, seemed to beckon her closer.
She stood before the creaking trees and felt so small. Yet, she wanted her hat back; it was too precious for her to let the wind keep it. Hesitantly, she put her foot forward, stepping on a narrow path that wound deeply into the woods.
“What if it gets stuck in the trees?” she wondered to herself aloud. “I couldn’t climb that high.” Despite her uncertainty, she knew in her heart that the wind wouldn’t drop her hat. She sincerely felt that the wind would keep her hat as a prize. Balling her tiny hands into fists, she wandered deeper and deeper into the woods. Soon, the hills before the forest disappeared and the beginning of the path withdrew from sight.
The trees were tall and swollen, bearing thick bark. Samantha noticed that her footfalls were silent; a substantial carpet of sweet smelling pine needles cushioned her every step. A cool breeze rushed through the trees, filling Samantha’s ears with the sound of rustling leaves and stiffly quivering trees. The golden light that poured through the woods told Samantha that the sun would soon set. She knew that she should turn back; she did not know how big the forest actually was, nor did she want to get lost.
Even more so, she was worried about what lived in the forest. Thinking about the stories her grandmother told about the forest, Samantha felt her stomach churn.
“Tula the troll lives in a knoll; the hill rises, and he comes out with surprises. He eats men, and he eats dogs, and he eats children too.” was how the story went. Samantha shook her head, trying to forget what happened next. An intricate net of shadows fell over the forest. As darkness crept across the land, Samantha turned back. She raced along the path; anxious tears flooded her steely blue eyes, blinding her to the figure that was traveling with equal haste in the opposite direction.
With a great crash, Samantha and the stranger rammed into each other, each falling to the ground in a daze. The stranger groped the ground, searching for something that he had dropped. Samantha’s gaze fell onto the object which the stranger fervently groped for. It was a thin, ceramic mask depiction a smiling face.
“Where is it?” asked in a whispering voice. “You dumb child! Help me, will you?”
Samantha was disinclined to help him; he seemed cruel, and his shape was less than human. Black hooves were where his feet were supposed to be, and a crown of twisting horns graced his head. Looking at his saturnine face, she found that he was grimacing. Seeing her hand was on the mask, the stranger fumed.
“It is mine, and do not take it! I will skin you and eat the bones from your living body if you take what is mine.” threatened the stranger sincerely. He pointed a long, crooked finger at the mask, and crept closer. “But, if you give it to me, I would be remiss if I did not repay you.” His tone became more gentle, yet was tinged with formality. Samantha responded by wordlessly holding up the mask.
She looked up to the stranger with her round, pleading eyes.
“I think I might need help getting back home.” She pointed in the direction from which she came.
“I cannot help you now, but if you come with me, I can keep you safe for the night. The wolves will be out, and when the wolves walk, other night things stalk.” He accepted the mask from Samantha’s hands and placed it over his face. His sad grimace disappeared, hidden behind the smiling mask. “Follow me. I promise, you will be kept safe.” He offered his hand to Samantha, and she stared at it. Withdrawing his hand slowly, his entire posture suggested disappointment.
“How can I trust you when you hide behind a mask?” she asked.
“How can I trust you when you don’t.” he responded.
“But I don’t know your name.” complained Samantha, wary of the stranger.
“And I don’t know yours either.” he responded. “You can follow, or you can wait,” he said curtly, “it doesn’t matter to me anymore.” He began to pick his way through the roots and brambles. Samantha, unsure of what she should do, shuffled her feet undecidedly. As the stranger walked into the deeper darkness, she felt compelled to follow him…