The Forest

Vardatia

They stared at the monster regaining shape as she reclaimed her presence and posed in front of them in a daring display of control. The tapestry of veins committed to her substance possessed a youth of arrogance that rattled with authority.  A being that was so sure no force could ever interfere with such power.  Her name was Vardatia. 

"Do not indulge yourself with my admiration, you don't impress me in the least," she clamored on with her ranting.  

The soil, now robbed of the vines of its own intellect, had reluctantly created a combination of energy that permeated with pride above ground.  And now, under the surface, reigned dormant roots of innocence searching to prosper in its loss.

Letters, still illuminating the air around them, were beginning to surround her with an assuring warmth of confidence. A warmth that neither Jack or his friend could feel. They seemed to be arranging themselves in orders that were understood only by her, some of them even hiding, waiting to expose secrets. And when they hung in silence, she would open her mouth again, spilling out more confusion for them.

"I'm so glad we've met on such short notice," she said condescendingly, her vines circling them with a threatening intention.  "I have much to show you in this forest yet to be revealed.  My reach is infinite.  I can manipulate even the most resilient life form here.  And you are no exception.  When you see fear, you will feel fear; when you see pain, you will feel pain; when you see panic, you will panic and when you lose hope, you will be hopeless.  My words will follow you around like a black cloud of smoke above you, poisoning your lungs,  This world knows my language and you are ignorant to my ways.   You and your friend have a lot of work to do, trying to figure your way out of your mind, or a way into mine."

Jack resisted a response and a gave a glare of anger, standing still below the bellowing wrath of vines, unaware that his friend was no longer by his side.  

Her head made an unbalanced attempt to straighten on her stem, stretching even taller; her stare fixed on his indignant expression.  And bulging eyes, protruding from their sockets, were growing anxious. Her mouth, empty from her last expel, left a sagging structure of flesh barely able to speak. The atmosphere absorbed her presence as the arms and legs of tightly wound branches waved in all directions of the unknown. The dense air, still juggling the letters and symbols in front of them, appeared to be talking to her in their bounce of amusement. 

Jack reached into his pocket, clutching  the rock he was given by the old mare, making sure it was still with him. He thought about the powers of goodness and evil never allowed to thrive together.  He wanted to leave, runaway, find any way out of where he was, but he remained calm in the comfort of his stone.

"You don't frighten me," Jack said, half believing himself.   "And you won't stand in my way."

She watched as he rustled around in his pocket holding on to a source of security.  "Do you have something you want to give to me?" she said, stirring his curiosity. 

"No. I have nothing I want to give you, Jack said.

"I see," she said as she staggered around him, limbering on her roots.  "Then have you come here to sacrifice something in your possession?"

"I am not here to sacrifice anything either," he said.

"My condolences," she muttered under her breath.  "Then I have no choice than to take something precious from you."

And with that, she looked down, searching for an exposed and unprotected part of her structure to fragment into a gift for him.  She tore off a frayed stick from her vine, still clinging to her existence, and made it worthless.

"Here, this is for you.  It represents a part of nothing.  A stick that holds no meaning.  It has no value.  And I am giving it to you to remind you that you belong to nothing.  You are a part of nothing.  Do you remember when you came tumbling into this forest?  I was the weight on your back. The wind is a roaring example of my influence.   My words created your journey in and when words with no promise collide with small minds, there is little hope. You'll never get out.  As you and your little friend walk on further into Forgotten's Forest, remember that I am the one who grounded your heels in the quicksand.  Do you remember dreaming me into life?"

Jack flashed back to his first memory by the pond, believing now that Vardatia had been there in some form.   He looked around to find his friend but he wasn't anywhere to be seen.  Holding on to the vile stick, he swirled it around violently as if to summon a spell.  And there, hiding behind a small rock formation emerged a soft glow.  Vardatia recoiled her vines uncontrollably.  The stick had powers.  Rising up from beyond the rock pile was a cloud of rays shining  on a small critter with a white patch of fur on his forehead and a passive voice with a dream stepped forward.