Destiny of Darkness - Chapter 4

<><>CHAPTER FOUR<><>


The man paced suspiciously in front of me, peering into bushes and crevices that would have been obvious even to an inexperienced woodsman. Where I was located, or should I say, hidden on the spur of the moment, wasn’t as obvious; I had had some training from my father in these matters, so I did have some experience in the woods. The bushes were very dense, the pine coloring unaltered in the climatic change that occurred every year with the changing of the seasons, and I was hidden in the very middle. I looked up through the foliage at the man’s back, turned towards me. The leaves filtered out some of my view, so I wasn’t able to get a good look of where he moved.

I heard him move away, his footsteps becoming more muted as the distance between him and myself increased. Only when I was sure that he was gone I let myself breath a sigh of relief. I remained where I was as I didn’t want to attract his, or anyone else’s attentions and remained stationary for several more minutes.

When I was certain that there wasn’t anyone waiting for me, I moved not forwards, but backwards into the underbrush until I came out on the opposite side from which I had entered. The view was basically the same, the trees and rocks littered about only more sparse by a marginal fraction.

With a hunted glance I forced my numbed feet to move, several sharp twigs cutting into the soles and no doubt drawing blood. I couldn’t afford to rest to fix what had been damaged, however, for all I knew the men that were hunting me closing in this very moment. I muffled a whimper of pain in my hand and I continued in the direction in which I was going. Hopefully I would find some sort of shelter soon.

The trees thickened, then cleared as I stepped into a meadow. A cold wind that swept by made me shiver, but what I next saw warmed me inside. I could see my house in the distance; I was finally home.

My house had become covered in trails of ivy over the month I was away, overgrowing the front and back; the shed was without livestock, as I had said, the Elder took what he could get his hands on. He had said it was for my own good at the time. I snorted at the ludicrous statement. He only wanted profit for himself, and I saw the sentiment reflected in his eyes at the time. I brushed aside the hanging moss and entered the now musty and dank hovel. Where there had once burned a hearty fire there remained but ashes. Cobwebs littered the entire structure, and I found it almost impossible to believe that this was where I had once lived.

Memories rose to the surface of my mind; this corner there was where my mother had taught me to read, and there was where I had my first bruised knee. Tears I had promised myself I wouldn’t cry started to stream down my cheeks as I realized the despondent nature of the things that I so loved.

There was no time for crying. I had little time left to lose. I limped resolutely into my mother’s bedroom, and knelt down beside her cot. Offering prayers for her soul, I dug about in the hard packed dirt, successfully wedging some under my fingernails and removed the two boards covering the coins that my mother had accumulated. There were quite a bit in fact, several sacks. I placed them gently into my traveling pack and lifted it to my shoulders. My mother’s last gift…

I swallowed, remembering everything she had done for me, and then the way she had died… a hot anger ran though me, burning underneath my skin. A feeling compelled me to lift my thumb to my mouth and cut it on one of my sharpened canines. As the blood trickled slowly into my hand I clenched it into a fist.

“On this your blood that flows through my veins, your body which gave me life, I so swear that your death will be avenged. As long as I take breath, your murderer will come to justice.” I spoke solemnly as I intoned the age-old ritual. Somehow I had expected something to happen, something maybe with flashes of light or ghostly voices, but the room remained unchanged for all my superstition. Several drops of my blood hit the floor, staining the wood crimson.

I turned and left, grabbing a pair of rusty sheers on my way out. I would have to cut my hair soon in order to keep up my disguise. No ‘real’ man would leave his hair long, I thought to myself sarcastically. The longest I had ever seen a man’s hair to be was just past his shoulders. I knew that I would have to make sacrifices to escape my fate, even accept death, and I was prepared to do anything to avoid it.

Hastily, I looked around before emerging from the dark shadows. The light was nearly gone, an unusual occurrence considering that it should be around noon. A blast of wind and wet snow hit me as I stepped outside, nearly pushing me off of my feet. I fought to the edge of the meadow furthest away from the town where I had stayed, nearly frozen by the time I made it into the shelter of the trees. I tried to keep in good humor, but with every stinging gust of wind I fell farther and farther from my goals.

I could faintly make out rows of shadowy figures ahead of me; from what I could see through the snow it was the edge of the forest. I couldn’t continue out into the open; my best bet would be to find a place to weather out the storm. I should have just stayed in my mother’s house… but then they would have been able to find me at any time; just because the Elder said something didn’t mean that everyone was going to follow it. A sigh was wrenched from my chest as I blew on my numbed fingers to regain some of the warmth I was lost.

Of all the stupid things that I could do, was to forget a winter cloak. Feeling the last shackles of the Elder’s control fall from me, I felt my body relax even though the cold was turning my skin blue. I welcomed each pain filled breath, for the air that I tasted contained the ambrosia of my freedom.

Trudging through the snowdrifts, I returned to the sanctuary of the mighty trees, pine needles still green, retaining their color throughout the changing seasons. The trees themselves formed a natural windbreak, lessening the impact of the storm, and as I drew deeper into the forest, calmer the air grew. The trees were dense and the lighting dark; most of the natural light siphoned by the blizzard.

Only a few feet from me I made out the shadow of a hollow fallen tree, holding an enclave only slightly larger than the size of my body. I crawled into the small space, pressing my back to the other side of the hollow log, and drew by pack up in front of me as an extra source of warmth.

I was unprepared for the harshness of the weather, and I didn’t have any food. I had been too eager to leave the village; I had forgotten the most important things that I needed to survive. I set my teeth and lay there shivering and waiting for feeling to return to my nearly frozen appendages. I refused to become despondent; at least I was still alive. I settled down to wait for the storm to abate.



I blinked sleepily. When had I fallen asleep? I couldn’t remember, but the howling of the winds had finally abated. As I moved from my shelter, a small pile of snow that had gathered outside fell upon me as I rose, sputtering. This was not a pleasant way to wake up.

I was grateful that the storm had stopped, the once bleak and dead floor of the forest thinly sparkling with the powdery crystals. The trees stretched so far upwards I had to crane my neck to make out their tops through the low flying clouds.

Now on my feet, I kicked away the snow that had built up around the fallen log where I had spent the night, and propped up my pack against the log. I spotted some low branches on the nearby surrounding trees that would make adequate bedding. I snapped several off and dragged them back to where I planned to weather out the storm. I wasn’t as cold as I should have been, but I refused to think about it. I accepted the fact that I wasn’t dead gratefully and I wasn’t going to question how in fact that was possible.

I was certain that the storm was not over; many times in the winters past the snow would be heavy, then suddenly tapered off to rest without the slightest snowflake, and then return without the slightest warning with full force and fury.

Arranging several of the smaller branches on the ground, I set the others up around the opening of the hollow log to keep some warmth in the small space. I shrugged on the extra shirt and leggings, depleting the supplies that my backpack contained even more. I would have to find a source of food soon, or I would starve. Maybe I should just press on… what was more logical? Staying here with no food, and no proper shelter, or walking around aimlessly with a hope that I would run into a village?

I looked at the small place that I had prepared and out into the silent forest that resounded with menace. Would I have a greater chance in that forbidding place? The odds seemed the same to me so I turned back towards my makeshift campsite and set to fortifying it for the night. At least I knew the general direction of where I was right now… if I left in this weather I could find myself lost and then all of my chances of survival would be moot.

Since I wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon, I decided to take care of the rest of the problems with my physical appearance. Settling down in the fir branches, I searched around in my rucksack for the sheers I had found earlier. I winced as I raised the heavy things to my head’s level and pried the two bits of metal far enough apart to insert several locks of my hair.

The click they made as they closed was oddly final, and the bits of severed hair floated gently to the ground. I refused to let myself become emotional over this; I had decided that this had to be done weeks ago. But still, my hair was a major part of my existence, even if it was one that I was willing get rid of in order to keep my life. I continued to cut, or more like hack away at my hair until I had shortened it drastically, the length now only several inches from my scalp.

I shivered as I saw my tresses lying on the ground. I couldn’t help it. San… I’m an idiot. Shit. I picked up a long blond shock and stared at it. I could almost hear the book shut on the previous chapter of my life as it closed. My fist clenched around my severed appendage as sobs wracked my throat and body. I never wanted any of this to have happened! Mother…. Why did you have to die?

I curled up into a ball and sniveled piteously at my current predicament. I had no idea how I was going to survive, how I was going to eat, how I was going to stay warm… it was too much for me to deal with. All of my life I had someone else watching over me, looking out for me in case I did anything wrong. I had someone to correct me. Now… I was alone, cold, hungry, and in a hollow log, the rotten wood my shelter for a blizzard. I felt helpless. Nothing was as I had imagined it was going to be.

I pulled the branches around my shivering form and shut my eyes even as my cheeks were wet with my grief. Tomorrow would be a new day… and I would have to get used to this new way of life soon, if it could be called that. If not… I would die.

The night passed slowly; it was too cold for me to fall asleep. When morning came, I was chilled to my bone; I had spent the night sleepless, resting far to dangerous for me to risk closing my eyes. I rubbed my fingers together and blew on them in an effort to restore my missing warmth. My eyes were weary, and most likely shot through with blood, making my morning all that more attractive.
The sun hadn’t changed the color of the sky; to my chagrin, the storm hadn’t returned. It was still early; perhaps I might be able to make more progress. Slowly I stretched out my cold, cramped muscles, and rose from my bower of pine. Grateful for the chance to move I gathered my rucksack to me and hefted it to my shoulder. I was lighter than it had been last night, if only due to the lack of the sheers I was going to leave here.

Dressed with extra clothes, I pulled on a hood that I had made from an extra shirt and stepped out into the foreboding forest. I refused to let my predicament weigh on me, and set out at a jaunty pace… at least for myself at this moment.

With my shelter gone several hundred paces past, the storm decided to mock me once again and the wind started gusting, trying to knock me from my feet. Whimpers escaped my lips as I grew more and more tired, my steps slowing and my muscles burning.

My endurance was at its limit as I once again stumbled, cutting my already raw knees. I had lost track of where I was, the ground before me encased with a solid wall of white, and my determination was being worn away at, whittled little by little with the cutting fury of the wind. Surely this storm had to be sentiment; it seemed to take delight in the suffering of the helpless caught within its evil boundaries.

The forest had thinned considerably in the time I had been walking, revealing me more to the scathing sheets of snow and ice. My skin was chapped and dry; a great discomfort to me as it chafed against my clothes. I was getting pretty numbed by now, however, to the extent that I couldn’t feel my toes or fingers. I wished as hard as I could to be anywhere but this horrid place as I sank to my knees a final time and the darkness claimed me in a sleep far deeper than normal slumber.


END PART ONE