Eternity's Spring

Rather long, ain't it? It's a dark fairy tale, somewhat inspired by Pan's Labyrinth (or maybe a rip off of it.) Not much I can say without spoiling it, so go ahead and read.

  

Once upon a time, as that is how all tales should begin, there was a boy who loved his parents very much.

            His love of books, of the endless knowledge that could be found between two covers, began with them. As a child, he had been entranced with the tales they lay out before him: stories of adventure and magic and love, stories in which the good were rewarded, and the wicked were punished. He learned all too early in his life that this was far from truth.

            Tim was seven years old, and his nanny, Ms. Pullman, was putting him to sleep when the knock on the door came.

            The authorities told her about the car, smashed against a tree on the side of the road. About the two bodies found in it. About the fate of the two people Tim loved more than anyone else.

 

            Ramsey’s Home for Orphaned Boys was a tall, narrow building set against a backdrop of thick foliage and trees. There were three windows visible from the front of the darkly painted building: two in separate rooms on the same floor, one a level higher. The two lower ones were crowded with curious, intent faces. Tim stared back at them from the clouded window of the automobile, feeling not unlike a prisoner walking towards his sentence as the jury watches.

            Within the next five minutes, Tim was walking through the door to the room he shared with twelve other boys. He had one suitcase; its contents were limited to clothes and a single volume of fairy tales.

            The boys were at first very interested in the new arrival, but their curiosity waned the longer he ignored them and read.

            In his first week at Ramsey’s, Tim reread the entire collection. The stories were no longer full of wonder. The creatures of myth were now mischievous, nearly malicious. Hidden between helpful actions lay sinister intentions. Dark deeds occurred in forests not entirely unlike that behind the place he was trapped in now.

            Days passed, and Tim could only be found reading. He was reading by the rays of light creeping into the room when Ms. Borne (“The Warden” was the nickname that was passed around amongst the boys) came in and woke up the residents of the wing.

            “We have visitors! Wake up! Get your best clothes and your best behavior! Wake up!”

            Tim had no clothes that were especially presentable; he decided upon a bright blue polo shirt and white pants.

            When he was back from the bathroom, his book was no longer laying on his bed. It was a moment before he spotted its red cover in the hands of a boy, hands that were flipping rapidly through its aged pages. His freckled face had a look of amusement that set a fire within Tim.

            “Give it back!”

            The older boy looked up, a malicious grin plastered on his face.

            “You want it?”

            The book snapped shut as he raised it.

            “Go get it!”

            Before Tim could comprehend anything, the book had flown through the window and into the woods. Tim felt his hands clench into fists. He could kill the moron. He…

            “Are you okay? I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Just…”

            Tim ran out of the room and down the stairs, past the entrance, around the house, and into the woods.

            The ground was slick with mud, the trees wet with dew. The gnarled branches of the trees around him reached out into the sky, seeming to grab at something invisible in the air.

It was moments before he spotted his book, yards away. It was lying face down in the mud of the forest floor.

In a moment it was in his hands, his desperate hands. Mud had leaked into the pages, sticking them together.

And he became conscious that sitting on a log a little away from him was a toad. It was staring at him intently. He instinctively reached for a berry and snapped one off a bush.

He and his mother would always feed animals on their walks through the forest.

He shuddered and reached out, the offering red in his hand.

It hopped towards him, its bright eyes ever watching as it swallowed the tiny fruit whole. After a single moment, it hopped away.

With that, he started back to the orphanage.

 

It was unfortunate that he stepped into the room, his clothes coated in mud, just as a couple visiting the orphanage for a child was inside.

A few minutes later, they excused themselves and left.

Tim was sent to the attic, a place they used to keep the children who misbehaved. He had just a bed and a lamp on a table, nothing else.

He set what remained of his book down on the table and sat down on the bed.

And then he wept.

 

His sleep was disrupted by a pressure on his right leg and a small noise, nearly ambient in his ears. His eyes opened, and he saw he had a visitor.

Its yellow eyes shone in the moonlight, its throat swallowing. It was a toad, a toad he thought was familiar. It was the toad from the forest, and its shining eyes gave it a ghostly presence in the dark room.

He pulled his covers off and stood up. A slight dizziness overwhelmed him, but then the feeling passed. The toad hopped down onto the ground and towards the door, than turned back.

A whisper escaped from his lips. “Where are you going?”

The toad turned back towards the door. The boy, with only slight hesitation, followed.

 

It led him down the stairway and around the house, back into the forest. It hopped forward, occasionally stopping to wait for Tim to catch up. It led deeper into the woods than Tim had ever thought it could, seeing as how from anywhere else the forest seemed rather small.

And then the two unlikely companions turned a corner, and he saw an eminent stone altar.

Vines crawled up the two pillars that guarded the sides of the podium.

“Wow…”

He reached out and touched the podium. In the center of the stone was an engraved circle, surrounded by symbols he didn’t recognize.

Out of the darkness behind him came a voice " a voice that sounded very old, that carried wisdom and much experience.

“What is your name, boy?”

The creature behind him smelled of earth.

“Who are you?” asked the boy, neither entirely oblivious nor knowledgeable about what this creature could be.

“I have had many names. There are too many to keep track of, and so many that are so old, only the forests, the lakes, and the mountains can pronounce.” The toad hopped towards the creature and was promptly picked up and petted. “All you must know is that I come from another world, a world where there are no lies or pain. You mustn’t call me anything, but I wish to know your name.”

Tim, for a moment, recalled his fairy tales. In those, telling the truth usually wielded good fortune, yet occasionally it was said that the knowledge of a name had great malicious power. The creature was very close, though; close enough to attack if he refused. It seemed benevolent enough, though.

“My name is Tim.”

“Ah.” The creature seemed to take this in for a moment, but to Tim’s subconscious relief, nothing explosive happened in consequence. “Tim.”

Another moment of thought.

The creature suddenly turned towards him, a sound like creaking oak emitting. “You have lost your parents, haven’t you, Tim?”

Tim slowly nodded. There was all of a sudden a lump in his throat that he tried to swallow but couldn’t.

“And you dislike the lodgings where you dwell?”

Ramsey’s. Tim thought for a moment. He did dislike it. His feelings about the place had never really come out in those terms, but now that he thought about it, they were better suited than any.

Another slight nod, which the creature registered. It paused in hesitation once more, and then stepped towards him.

“I can bring you your parents back.”

The boy stiffened in disbelief, then felt anger rise within him like a flame. Then he stepped forwards and felt a wave of serenity wash over him, calming him.

“What?” The noise came from his mouth in almost a whisper.

The creature smiled and showed yellow teeth. “I, with your assistance, can bring your parents back.”

Tim exhaled.

The creature began to walk around the circular altar. “I require only one favor.”

The boy listened intently. The creature waved him over, and he followed its commands.

“Let me tell you a story,” the creature said. And It began:

There was once a king, a king who ruled over his subjects with an iron grip. His heart was filled with desires, yet above all else, he longed for eternal youth.

At last, word came to him of a spring in the center of a garden, a garden that lay in the heart of a great maze in another world. This spring, it was said, bore the Waters of Life, which could grant immortality to the man brave enough to venture into the maze, endure its dangers, and bring back the Waters.

But what rested in that maze was not human.

The king, too cowardly to descend into the other world himself, announced a contest: if any man would descend into the Underworld and bring back a bottle of these waters, he would share the gift of immortality with him.

Many came forward to take on the task, but none came back from their task alive.

So the king waited. He waited and waited for many years. He waited so long for the gift of eternal youth that he died of old age.

The creature looked at him, silently. The boy inhaled.

“But now,” the creature said, “I have need of these waters, and I myself cannot descend into the maze. I ask only for you to enter the accursed place yourself and bring me back what I desire. If you follow my directions precisely, you will succeed in your venture. Do you agree?”

Tim hesitated for a moment. He thought of his life, of the dangers, of the possibility of his death. But then he thought of his parents. And he nodded.

“Good.” The creature bent down to be level to the boy’s height. “I have much to tell before the rise of the sun is at hand. Will you remember?”

Tim nodded. The creature smiled yet again.

“At one minute to midnight, my pet will appear at your door.” It motioned towards the toad, sitting on the altar and watching. “You will let him in, and begin the opening of the gate to the Underworld.

“You must draw a large circle on the floor of your quarters, and fill it with salt.” The creature bent down and pointed one of its gnarled fingers at him. “Be sure it is in a place that moonlight can shine upon it.” It stood up and withdrew a bottle from amongst the moss cloaking its body. It held it out towards Tim. He reached out for it, but the creature snatched it away. “You will receive this when you need it " it is too sacred to risk breaking. A few feet away from the circle, you will draw a cupboard in the ground, again with salt. It will be locked.” It retrieved another object: a key. This It handed to him.

“You will unlock it.” Now It placed the bottle back. “Inside will be this container, which you will use to bring back the Waters of Life.”

“At midnight, the circle will create a gateway to the maze. This gateway will last for precisely one hour, and then it will close. If you are in the maze when this occurs, you will be sealed in there for the rest of eternity.” Tim shuddered.

“My pet will lead you through the maze, towards the center. When you reach the center, the hall will branch off into three doors. The garden is in the center door.”

“However, my boy,” It said. “Before one is able to reach the Fountain that bears the Waters I require, they must pass the vile creature that guards it.”

“No, this is not the creature that is the true danger to you " I will get to that very soon,” It said, seeing the boy’s face. “All I can give you to rid this creature from your path is this.” It held out a stone, a stone imbued with all the colors familiar to Tim, and a hue of something he couldn’t quite describe. “You will throw this to the creature, and it will be distracted. Only then can you pass.

“When you have bottled the Waters, you will enter the door on the left. In here is a treasury, full of riches and artifacts. You must take nothing from this room.” It bent down, and Its voice turned cold and harsh. “Absolutely nothing. It is of the utmost importance.” Tim nodded.

The creature stood up again. “It is in this room that you will be retrieving the tools necessary to bring back your parents. At the center of the room will be a table. Lying on this table will be a creature made of mud and clay. It will have but three hairs on its head. These three hairs you will pluck out, one by one. The creature will not awaken.

“When you are done with this, return, following my pet, and get back through the entrance. You will return here and give me your newly acquired possessions.

“Do you have any questions?”

Tim shook his head no. The creature showed its teeth. “I have faith in you, Tim. I have faith.” With this, the creature began to walk backwards. Within a minute It had disappeared into the thick forest. So thoroughly had It vanished, and so remarkable the whole event had seemed that, if not for the two objects the creature had given him, Tim would have thought it had never happened at all.

He started back to Ramsey’s.

 

The next day he went through his daily schedule as usual, but his usual bored attitude had been replaced by a wave of anticipation. The day went by quickly. At dinner he was able to swiftly steal a jar of salt, and when the boys retired to bed, he was still awake in his own attic, waiting.

And at last the toad appeared, hopping into his room with a croak.

In the light cast upon the floor from the window, he traced a large circle and filled it in with salt. He barely was able to do this and have enough salt left to trace the cupboard, which he promptly attended to. In just a few seconds the cupboard was unlocked and opened. He took out the bottle.

Tim looked around the room and decided on a pillowcase, which he placed the bottle and the key into. He also placed inside a piece of chalk.

Within another minute, he watched as the salt seemed to seep into the wood of the floor, and then simply slip through, taking with it the wooden planks. Within a few seconds, the entrance was open. He stared down into it for a moment, and then he descended.

The entrance led into a well-lit stone hallway, which he saw led to a fork in the path. The walls of the maze stretched high to touch the ceiling, also stone. The walls, he noticed, were smattered with red. Tim shuddered and continued.

The toad hopped ahead of him and at the fork turned back towards him. It then continued to turn right. Tim took a deep breath and took out the chalk from his makeshift bag. He drew a line along the wall as he turned right.

 

It took thirty minutes to reach the center of the maze with a slow walk, but when he finally did, Tim immediately went through the middle door.

The door opened with a slight creak, and Tim stepped through. He looked around in wonder.

The door led into an outdoor area. A great blue sky stretched out above, and behind him the door simply stood in the middle of the field.

Leading from the door was a stone pathway that led through the entrance, which was filled with flowers he knew and recognized, as well as many he could not place from anywhere he had been before. The pathway led through the room towards the center, but Tim could not see any further, for a giant creature sat in the way.

It sat on its hind legs, which rippled with waves of fat. Its skin was scaled and green. It was bent over, and it was devouring the beautiful flowers decorating the garden. As Tim approached, it looked up at him with its bright orange eyes, bared its sharpened teeth at him, and it licked the rim of its mouth, as it had no lips.

The boy took little time in estimating something and then throwing the stone towards the creature.

It looked down in surprise, and Tim saw that it turned into a flower " one of the exotic kinds that populated the garden, the kind that the monster seemed to love to eat.

It swooped down swiftly " too swiftly, it seemed to Tim, for a creature of that size " and gobbled up the offering. It seemed to enjoy the flavor, and it closed its eyes in savoring.

But in another moment its eyes were open in alarm, and it made a terrible retching sound. Its eyes rolled back in its head, and its stomach began to melt away, fat and blood and tissue pooling on the floor.

And the boy realized this is what the creature had meant for " it had meant to kill this thing, not to simply distract it, and it used Tim as its instrument. There was a rumbling in his own stomach, and he was sick in the flowerbed.

 

When he had recovered, he remembered that he wanted his parents back, and this was a small price to pay. So he stepped over the remains of the creature, and before him he saw a white marble fountain, flowing with crystal clear water.

Tim started towards it.

 

He filled the bottle with liquid flowing from the fountain and promptly corked it, carefully placing it into the pillowcase. He spared a few minutes to look around this area, and when he was done, he exited the garden

He turned to his right, but as he reached for the handle to enter the next room, he heard a faint whisper. It called for his name. And it was his mother’s voice.

The sound came from behind him. He turned and slowly walked towards the voice he had grown up with, and he realized it was coming from the third door, the one not mentioned in his instructions.

Almost without knowing, he reached for the handle and went through the wrong door.

 

He saw his mother, and he saw his father.

He was in a vast meadow, and before him was a great hill upon which grew a single tree. Below its shade his parents sat. They were smiling at him.

“Come here, Timmy!” his mother cried. “Come to your mother’s arms!”
He ran towards her.

“Honey.” She stroked his hair.

“We’ve missed you, son,” his father said.

A tear crept down his cheek.

“Don’t leave me,” he whispered.

“Not to worry, my dear. You can stay here with your father and I forever.”

Something tugged at his heart, but he didn’t quite know what it was.

A butterfly landed on his hand, and a small impish giggle touched his ears.

It wasn’t a butterfly, he realized. Its wing membrane was transparent, and thinner. It was one of the creatures he had grown up with, in the stories he had treasured. It was, he realized, a faerie.

Its delicate skin was forest green, yet dirtied. Its eyes were insect-like, and it had no masculine or feminine characteristics. He looked up, and he realized that they were all around, flying and playing and giggling.

And then a clear, sharp thought cut out of the thick fog of pleasure Tim was enveloped in. This thing didn’t belong in his world, in the place he shared with his parents.

“This isn’t real,” he said, almost to himself, bringing himself to terms with his painful realization.

“What, honey?”

His mother’s glare was intense.

“You’re not real,” he said, with added determination. “I saw you buried! You aren’t supposed to be alive again yet!”

She opened her mouth slightly, probably in disagreement, but then she was flung into the air along with her husband. They were twisted in directions impossible, and they fell to the ground as mangled bodies " the bodies the boy had seen in his parent’s coffins.

The tree above him withered, its oak bark shriveling and its leaves browning and falling to the ground.

The faeries in the air were now vicious wasps, and they sliced through the air as they chased Tim.

He didn’t look back until he was out of the door. The meadow was now a dark stone room, filled with creatures scuttling around in the shadows. It was a cruel illusion, nothing more. It had wasted a large portion of the time he had to navigate the maze, and he was now even more rushed than he had been before.

He closed the door and lamented all he had lost.

 

After a few minutes, he continued on and entered the last door.

Gold was heaped in piles all around the room, topped by goblets and gems and jewelry adorned with precious jewels " a priceless fortune was in this single room. Yet the boy did not dwell upon this, for he was young, and he did not yet know greed.

In the center of the room was a wooden table. Laying on it was a humanoid figure, its skin gray and somehow not like flesh. As the creature had told him, there were but three hairs on its otherwise-bald head.

The boy’s deep subconscious noticed something wrong " an aura of malice hardly present in the room, but there. It was in fact the lingering darkness that remained from the time when the creature inhabiting the room roamed free. It was the lingering darkness from the slaughter and devouring that had occurred millennia ago, before the creature was cast away.

But the boy realized none of this, and he continued forward.

With caution, Tim plucked the first one and waited for anything to happen. Nothing did. He picked the second one with growing courage and at last the third. He put them in the now-empty container of salt and tightly capped it.

He turned around to leave and stepped forward when his eye tugged at a pedestal in the corner. Upon it a book was sitting. It was quite ragged compared to the rest of the treasures in the room, and Tim recognized it nearly immediately. It was a book of fairy tales " a copy of the stories he loved, and also, he realized, the last remaining link he had to his mother and father. He stepped towards it and flipped through the pages " the stories were those he remembered, perfectly recalled, as he knew them. These pages were clean and readable, Tim noticed, remembering the mud-soaked pages of his own book.

No one would find out, he decided. He carefully placed the book into his pillowcase. He turned towards the door and had just opened it when he heard an otherworldly screech, a howl of rage and loss that came from directly behind him.

The creature, he couldn’t help but rediscover, was made of clay. The name most commonly given to a creature of that kind was Golem, but this was unlike any illustration he had ever seen of that thing. Clay dripped from its not-flesh and landed on the floor. Its head was small and skeletal, its artificial flesh worn near its artificial bone. Its hands were tipped with claws, and they held the toad. Within seconds, the boy’s only companion in this strange place had been torn apart.

Its features were clumped together with little artistic skill, and its mouth hung open, clay dripping out of it and pooling on the floor. Engraved on its forehead were runic symbols Tim couldn’t recognize and wouldn’t have taken the time to anyway, because the thing was staggering towards him, quicker than it seemed possible.

Tim screamed and ran out the door, the Golem thing close behind.

 

The first thing he noticed was that the hallways were different, the dim light illuminating the narrow passageways fading away. The thin, wobbling chalk line marking his path seemed to be more faded, more weathered away than before.

Yet as he ran further, he realized the walls of the passage were sliding inwards " they were looking to crush him.

The creature behind him roared, gurgling molten clay. Tim supposed it was laughing.

He started to run as fast as he had in his entire life. Through all the winding passages in the maze, the creature kept up at an amazing speed. The sound of stone grinding against stone and the Golem’s horrible roars seemed distant compared to the sound of his heart pounding in his ears, each beat a thud that echoed through his skull.

At last he reached the exit, the way to his world. But the clock in the room above chimed a single time, and stone spread inwards into the hole, forever blocking that entrance.

“No!”

The boy fell to his knees. The creature was catching up. A tear rolled down his cheek, and he waited for the inevitable. The tear fell from the flesh of his cheek and plummeted through the thin air of the maze. It splashed on the hard stone floor.

 

None but the oldest and wisest creatures, those that had existed since the beginning of time, knew that the maze was conscious.

There were many stories told about it " perhaps it was once the labyrinthine palace of an empire long forgotten, perhaps it was a home for creatures cast aside by the advanced world of reality " but they didn’t matter. The maze, though inhabited by malice and darkness, was in fact originally a place of peace, a place of serenity that had been corrupted at some point in time.

But what remained of the good nature of the accursed place felt the pinprick of the wet warmness touch it, and it realized the boy’s hope, the boy’s dread, the boy’s past, and the possibility of the boy’s future.

And it succumbed for the first time in eternity.

 

The creature’s dripping, slimy arm reached for the boy, reached for its first meal in centuries. It grasped air.

The boy was gone.

 

The ground below him was soft. He was vaguely aware that he was lying on a bed of soil.

The opening that had appeared in the ground of the maze was now covered; vines dotted with sharp thorns had crept over it, sealing it away.

He sat up, than stood. The taste of bile lingered in his mouth, souring it. He spat out as much as he could, then tried to get as much of the earth off his clothing as he could.

The place he was in was not enclosed. It was a great pit in the ground, and it was very deep. There was a staircase spiraling up along the circular walls of this place, leading up towards what seemed like the night of his world. The moon shone down, casting a pale light upon him.

Without hesitation, he began to climb.

 

He emerged in the center of the altar in the woods; an opening had appeared there. He looked around. The moon was further down than it had been when he left " much further. Tendrils of pinkish light dotted the night sky. It was nearly dawn, and he realized he had lay at the bottom of that entrance to the world above for many hours.

Quickly, he was reminded of his duty. He opened the pillowcase and relaxed when he saw that the bottle containing his prize was fully intact.

“The maze has never shown pity for any human being.” The creature was a few feet away, gazing up at the stars. In its hand was a slab of raw meat, and the boy noticed, with growing unease, a disemboweled stag on the ground.

The creature turned towards him.

“It is six hours past midnight. Where have you been?” The boy gulped.

“I had " err " complications.”

“Complications?” The voice was cruel and harsh.

“The monster " it woke up.

The creature paused for a moment. It flew across the ground, appearing next to the boy.

“You awoke it!” It was yelling. “You disobeyed me!” The creature’s voice was filled with anger and hatred. The boy backed away and remembered the creature in the garden, the way it had died. This creature had orchestrated that, and it was capable of harm.

“I’m sorry!”

“No human! No human can be trusted!” The scowl on the creature’s face was sharp. “I arose, and I hoped that humans had changed! But no! They are ignorant, disobeying creatures!”

“Please. Please.” The boy was pleading. “Please, just let me have my parents back!”

“No! Never! You will die alone!”

“Please!” His face was wet.

“You will never see me again!”

The boy continued backing up, nearly subconsciously. He was truly crying now, and he didn’t notice the vine behind him until it was too late.

He tripped and fell, for he had backed away too far. His thoughts fled as he fell through the air, back to the bottom of that pit, where he was not in one world, nor the other.

He hit the ground hard, and a great pain spread through his entire body, shaking his bones. A murky film was clouding his vision.

 

As he lay there, the creature watched the Waters of Life spill from the precious glass bottle it had entrusted to the boy. It watched with a kind of annoyance, and then It disappeared into the forest, never to be seen by any human being again.

 

The Waters of Life were spreading across the ground, spilling out of the small pile of colored glass shards that used to be a bottle. The Water crept towards him, and he felt it touch his fingertips.

Perhaps it was too late, or perhaps they had lost their power in the world of humanity, but the Waters refused their gift of life.

 

Legends spread in the kingdom of the Underworld, legends telling of the boy who long ago had dared to venture into the Great Maze, the boy who’s heart was pure enough to escape the darkness that flooded the place, and who escaped from it, all for his love of his parents.

The deep forest behind Ramsey’s Home for Orphaned Boys watched the residents of the land realize what had occurred. Their memories of the boy faded quickly, yet the forest remembered him. A great tree sprung up where he had fallen, filling the hole in the ground, and its roots grew over the altar where the boy had met the creature.

And as for the boy’s greatest desire? It is said that he found his parents, that he reunited with them, and that he joined them, loving them as if time had never passed. It is also said that he remains with them to this very day.

Author's Note

Not much. Just ignore grammar and spelling issues. "It" when referring to the creature is meant to be capitalized. Review, please, and tell me what you think about the dialogue.

Thanks alot.