The Forest Girl (Part of Chapter 1)

A girl leaves home to find her stake in the world, and comes upon an adventure that she would never have dreamed of; not even in her wildest dreams.

 Once upon a time there lived a quiet country town called Fur Immer, which in the German tongue means Forever. Upon its outskirts, just across a long and ancient river there dwelled a beautiful and magical forest. This forest was called Zaubiner, or Enchantress when translated. The town was surrounded by a tall stonewall. Everyone who inhabited the town knew little about the outside world. One might say that the townsfolk were unusually superstitious.

 Not far from the town, upon the edge of the woods, there grew a meadow of exceptional beauty, which cut through a marsh where many flowers were in blossom. Beyond these gardens another grand row of trees stood, which looked as though the world did not have the heart to leave them alone; and inside their massive branches one could see windows in which the kindling of fire blazed over small fireplaces.

One would forget all precious matters when the light of these happy places might save them from regret; and it was so as the fire smouldered warmly, and seemed to be seasoned with peaceful memories.

         Now, in the tallest tree there lived a young forest girl named Godiva and her family. But being the smallest and perhaps the most forbearing among them, she was not the center of their admiration; and yet, still she was ever a faithful servant to them all, and took the scolding of her family quite humbly and quite bravely. Her father, being so much like the agony of bad dreams, was dreadful to her always, so that the poor girl would be forever prone to fear whenever he was around. But her mother loved her dearly nevertheless, and promised to her that the world would forever be her oyster. Therefore, upon a pleasant morning when the sun was at its brightest, and happening to take her mother’s benevolent advice, Godiva one day adventured down her quiet tree-house hoping to make her stake in the world, and found her way past a host of enchanting forests and winding rivers, of which she was astonished to see that no one was about.

It is supposed, at such a time, that her heart was so moved and inspired by the splendid landscape that she could say nothing, and began to forget her sorry depression. Soon, as dusk and the gloom of evening began to set in, the lonely girl could behold the glistening of stars overhead. In their quiet and peaceful way they made her happy and contented for the remainder of the evening.

Upon the next morning, Godiva awoke to a warm breeze, and enjoyed the brushing of leaves over her brown locks of hair, and beheld the pearl-white sunshine casting its rays over a plot of green meadow. Her happiness was due to the adventure she was embarking on, for she rarely took her leave of her parents, and the high spirits of which she awoke to would not slacken for the remainder of the morning. What can one say of nature and its unheeding beauty except that it is a miracle of creation; and so, the young forest girl traveled eagerly, first along a ribbon of a path that lead through many valleys and a small mountain range, where all kinds of flowers and wild mushrooms of exotic varieties began to awaken and manifest themselves; and then down a steep ravine, where all of the tall oak trees and voluptuous hilltops were evenly spread about. But by the early afternoon, there were still no signs of weariness or loathing in Godiva’s courageous mood, and nothing of life or civilization could yet be found. Then, just as the boisterous little girl was coming upon a road soiled with mud and wet limestone, there was wonderment in her eyes, for her curiosity was again piqued and quickened; for just beyond, upon a trail covered by the shelter of trees, and which was handily made for excursions, hurried a tall rider in black. He was perched on his horse almost as if he was intentionally cloaked by the deepening twilight, and he made a hearty enough speed to contend with the drifting clouds overhead.

Now, Godiva was struggling to see the castle behind whose impenetrable walls the rider in black was then flocking to, for there was mist and an oblivion of darkness which obscured her view; but hope comes in many forms, and she could soon see a thread of golden light coming out of the gloomy castle barracks.

The rider in black, at this time, was then a welcome guest to the evening's beautiful enchantments, stowing his horse and other traveling equipment into a dark and unguarded stable just at the base of the castle's splendid garden. Indeed, all that makes a man wretched and painful from the long road had happened to this weary traveler, for he walked and sprang about with an eagerness that was equal to a starving man's hunger.

Now, the little forest girl who followed like a ghost in the evening‘s miserable darkness caught the rider in black then escaping into the castle’s gloomy banquet-hall. Moss around the castle walls led and passed through a host of dimly lit candles which were mounted upon steel encasements. So Godiva seized around these, and came to a window delicately embroidered withmoonlight.                

        Admiring the comfortable silence, which the girl found sacred, she was conscious of the rider in black then entering the large palace room. The source and secret of what the mysterious man had hung upon his wooden bedpost was not known until light from the steel encasements finally ended the climate of darkness. So, there was a sword with a gold and pearl-laced scabbard, and other plentiful and rare gems decorating its magnificent steel. And then there was a shield made from a black smith’s pride, which could defend a continent if it must, and was noble and mighty, indeed. But that was all, and there are many strange adventures’ which can be spoken of in the night, and none are more worshipped than what we imagine in our dreams. So, the rider in black was then fast asleep, taken to those half-remembered places that inspire us deeply. And the curious girl, as fond of adventures as a little child, climbed into the palace chambers desiring to see the brave knight’s face more eagerly than ever. And when she finally did so, Godiva swore that she would forever escape danger for his love, for that is how she felt, and love has its way of deceiving the innocent and tender hearted. Then, as the innocent child sought in vain for her love to be returned, the moment of her silent worship was soon disenchanted; for a princess of dazzling beauty, and dressed in the most elegant white gown she ever saw walked in through the dark chamber-doors. In the meantime, Godiva remained as still as death, and blended in with the dark shadows beside the chamber-door’s tall stone mantelpiece. However, the child soon became sadly jealous when she saw the princess take her side along her beloved knight, for she looked in wonder upon her handsome prince as he lay sleeping, and prayed that his honor might be hers someday to cherish. Though these were the affections of a child, and no wisdom on earth can change a child’s innocent tenderness. Now, it eventually came to pass that Godiva was about to escape through the window of which she originally entered. But she was only half-concealed by the darkness which protected her, for the knight, not comprehending her earthly presence, awoke in frightened astonishment. His heart startled him more than he would like to own, for the mysteries of the night were then full of mortal terror.

        Then, in a delirious commotion, the knight was headed from the comfort of his bed to the open chamber-door, when he saw Godiva making a spirited run for it. And so, he yelled and howled at the poor girl to stop, and he did so with scornful bitterness. But Godiva, thinking quite rightly that the knight was about to murder her, climbed down the castle wall in the greatest haste that was ever witnessed.

Now, beyond the castle there was a river. The name of it in German means Evening Star, and the roar of it echoed for many miles. But unfortunately, it was at the bottom of a steep valley, and bent its course toward the brink of several snow-capped mountains. Now, Godiva saw that it was a worthy place, but advanced toward the river and the dark chain of mountains trembling, and clutched to every tree as if they were lengths of rope, running down tothe valley's basin until she heard voices very loud and menacing fast approaching. Then, feeling deeply troubled, Godiva flew bravely into a pile of branches, which hid her in a cloud of darkness, and waited silently until the torment of these voices died away. She was doomed, she thought, and it was the stillest silence she ever heard. Then, as she crept from the bundle of branches which sheltered her from the terror of the unknown soldiers who were then eagerly searching for her, she scaled down a small hill to drink from the river of which see saw by moonlight. There, she had some private thoughts with herself, and marveled at the great light which stole across the river's glistening surface. There, she also caught a glimpse of the soldiers before they vanished into the night's vast expanse of darkness. But soon afterwards, Godiva found herself marching through a dense and magical forest.

The name of the forest was called Winter’s Tomb. In the ancient lore of the Fur Immer people it was where the dead were put to rest. But they were rumored to walk even after their bodies had been buried in the frozen earth. By an ancient necromancer named Castile who rivals the greatest magicians in all the land, he created a legion of walking dead to help serve him as he completed his evil reckoning upon all of those who betrayed him.

 But Godiva did not see Castile. Nor did she see his evil minions. But she did make it through the snow-covered forest; branches cracking like bones beneath her feet. Eventually, she came to the top of a mountain. It was a place once used as a soldier’s outpost. A warm fire and raw meat indicated that it had been recently used.   

After a time, Godiva watched the soldiers as they tried in vain to find her. Grief lay on her heart as she watched them, but sleep would not come into her eyes. With her whole strength, she kept moving.

There was yet another mountain that Godiva could see in the distance. It was taller than the rest, and more frightening too. Soon, she came to the foot of its high peaks, but saw only a small waterfall casting its cold and dark waters into a peaceful lagoon. As moonlight swam in its frozen pools, she soon walked into the cave of the waterfall.

At last, she came to the other side, and saw with a great deal of fear and wonder a young boy lying at the root of a tall tree. He had rosy cheeks, and milk white skin. Now and then he would drink from a golden cup, and would soak his hands in the holes and crevices of a beautiful garden fountain. Beneath his arm he hung a magical harp, and he would play it beneath the sacred moonlight, and he would sing as if angels had enchanted his voice.

His name was Estraya, named after the North Star for its eternal powers. In Fur Immer legend it is written that a child born to a witch mother is called a Hexen. Such a child has been born three times in the witch calendar, and each time it has been when the full moon has been unified with the Dragon’s heart.

Of course, the boy was no Hexen, for he was not bloodthirsty, and he was good in an innocent sort of way, if that makes sense. He took Godiva suddenly by her arm, and was chomping vigorously upon a blade of grass that he had just snatched up from a bed of flowers. Godiva looked at him soberly, and yet she kept her distance; in her mind, she did not want to be one of those silly little girls who fell into danger.    

“Do you know who I am?” said the boy, with some authority.

"No," replied Godiva, appealing to her memory to see if she could remember him, and the she went on with a puzzled look, "for I have only just met you, and I can't know someone if I have not met them first."  

      

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[Gray Witch]

Excellent writing. I was drawn in immediately.......... Looking forward to reading more...