Roots - Chapter Six

Chapter Six: Lost and Found

Aldon’s breathing slowed as he stalked closer to his prey, his target blindly walking to and fro after the berries only a Nacker could eat. Its beady eyes locked onto a ripe blue berry and wrapped its little furry hands around it, followed by a pop as it landed in its mouth. The tiny creature licked its paws and rubbed its face as Aldon watched it, reaching into his belt. This was the first animal he'd seen close enough to get a shot at and wasn't about to let the opportunity slip by him.
The Nacker looked up from its nibbling with great wide eyes at the boy sitting a few yards away. Its head leaned to the side and studied the thing. It was too big and had too little fur save for his head. Its great ears were appropriate but its fur was much too light to camouflage in these woods.
It sure is a queer creature, the Nacker decided at last, tired of trying to figure out what is what that was watching him. He watched it reach down and remove something shiny, something the furry tyke instinctively wanted to avoid. It leaned its head down to the ground as the object rose above the thing's head.
Aldon’s knife thumped in the ground beside the Nacker, followed by a curse as Aldon dived for the woodland creature. He slid in the dirt, the Nacker already in the thickest boughs of a nearby tree, and spat dirt from his lips. He stood and removed his knife as he stared into the canopy above him, blocking out the sky. It was then that Aldon realized how dark his outlook was.
“I should never have left,” Aldon said sourly, his bottom lip jutting out with a quiver. “I haven't eaten in three days and my pack's empty already.” He paused to listen to the forest. “A curse on this place and all in it!”
A sighing whisper of a voice passed Aldon in the gentle breeze.
He flicked the knife from his belt and held it aloft, spreading his legs to steady his stance. His shoulders hunched forward and his spare arm rose near his chin in a fist. His eyes darted back and forth scanning for any sign of movement.
“Who goes there?” He called out to the surrounding darkness.
The wind blew idly by.
* * *
A shadow crept in the valley nearby, waiting for the elf to near him, hanging in an old tree. He slid down the base and snuffed his campfire with rocks to prevent smoke before returning to his perch. The figure leaned back on his branch and removed his longbow from his back and strung it with ease. Gingerly, he nocked an arrow and stroked the hawk fletching with the sides of his calloused fingers, inhaling deeply and smelling the wildflowers all around him, the sweet tangy scent of the fruit and the soft aroma of fungi filled his lungs and rejuvenated his limbs. The sounds of the babbling brook a few yards from his tree chatted happily to the rocks beneath it.
The shadow sat relaxed as he waited the next few hours for his new visitor to appear. He had heard the rumors of an elf passing through and had waited eagerly to judge him. This was his home and his jurisdiction. If he found the trespasser deserving and worthy they may pass, but if found tainted by darkness, he would enact justice on them immediately.
And without mercy.
* * *
Aldon crept along slowly, knife in hand and eyes wary, he cautiously stepped deeper and deeper into the heart of the forest. He expected an attack around every turn as images of beasts and monsters plagued his every thought and action. Each movement seemed too noisy and exposed a suddenly unwanted parallel to his previous assessment. Aldon’s hand gripped the hilt of his knife tighter until his palm began to sweat and his knuckles turned white with the strain.
“How I truly hate this forest.” He said to only himself or so he hoped. Every passing minute brought new waves of fear to his mind.
Aldon quickened his pace to a light jog and continued this way for well into the night. His feet were sore and his eyes bleary but onward he pressed. The young elf knew he was getting close to the center where he hoped he would find a village or town; that single hope driving his pace. Sore memories passed through the boy's mind as the trail wound on, remembering his father and home and his bed.
Aldon approached a clearing not long after, mouth agape and dry. His hair hung limp and matted about his face and his sweat plastered the dirt to his muddied face. The shirt he had saved for last was now just as disgusting as the others and smelled horridly to Aldon’s keen sense of smell.
“Is it this some ruse or do my eyes deceive me?” He asked aloud as he neared a small stream. It ran softly downhill with light grass on each side and smooth stones beneath it over the dirt. He crouched beside it and inspected the area as quickly as he dared. The forest was dark and the sky a purple above the secluded valley littered with stars.
“Seems clear enough I suppose, but I shall be quick.”
Aldon marveled at how clear the brook's glassy water was as he washed his face and soaked his shirt in doing so. He paused and looked about; fingering the button on his shirt with dripping fingers, then upon finding nothing removed his clothing quickly. A tense feeling swept through him as soon as he set his trousers aside and decided to keep his knife beside him as he washed.
The stream swelled as Aldon gingerly lowered himself into the cold water. Instantly the chill water swam over Aldon and engulfed him completely. Aldon remained there for several moments, savoring the refreshment that fulfilled him and enjoying the lack of filth on his skin and hair.
The muffled rushing sounds of the brook passing him calmed his mind with a sudden and overwhelming serene which quickly loosened Aldon’s springy muscles and removed all tense readiness he had kept since his departure.
Aldon tried to stand then and take a breath but found himself beneath an invisible barrier. He tried again and looked up to see find nothing but the calm untouched surface of the water, shimmering and rippling magnificently in the light of the rising sun. Instantly Aldon panicked and began to wave his arms and legs maniacally, at least he would have if he had had the strength. His numbed limbs remained calm as his brain tore through ideas wildly in an attempt to escape.
Aldon stared at the surface, entrapped in his own body, and screamed a bubbling barrage of curses at the crystal waves above. He watched it as his lungs cried out in distress and felt himself sinking to the bottom.
How deep is this brook? He asked himself as orange and purple spots danced in front of his face. Aldon descended lower and lower until he was lying on the stones and felt the weight of the rushing water on top of him holding him down. Aldon’s lungs were about to burst and his lips twitched and fought his jaw to pull apart, to suck in a big deep, life saving breath. But he knew better and held it another minute, tears streaming with the current and face as purple as the sky above.
The water passed uncaring, unrealizing of the boy's predicament and fast approaching doom, just continuing on as water does. It rushed past the drowning boy who stared up at the sky as if behind a window and traveled where ever the hills commanded.
Aldon’s eyes darted wildly for some form of escape, something to hold to like a vine or low hanging ledge. The low salt level stung at his eyes like a harsh wind as he searched further, the impossibility of it all startling Aldon to the core. His jerky movements and trembling would have been obvious to the world if he had the ability to move which still he would have used to attempt leaving. But he quickly recalled the invisible wall on the surface he was incapable of penetrating and realized his life was at an end.
The light ridden surface washed over his still form, alight with the heavens and was the single most beautiful thing Aldon had ever seen. His eyes lingered on their glistening rays in vain of the hopes they would reach down and save him. But no one and nothing came for him, for the lone elf beneath the waves.
Aldon watched in horror as his mouth involuntarily opened and inhaled a great lungful of water, an endless and instantaneous numbing filled him and clouded his mind with a misty fog. His body seemed to vanish from himself and floated downstream, his mind trailing along in the current behind.