Into The Forest

76 19 89
                                    

The tall, twining trees of the Ashenwood Thicket finally came into sight as Amara and her faithful stallion trotted along. Through their matted branches came the gentle dapple of sunlight casting onto the ground an ethereal dance of shadows.

The closer they drew, the thicker the air felt as it constricted around them, tightening like a noose. It had an otherworldly stillness to it, a frighteningly palpable magic that seemed to seep out through the trees from the centre of it all.

She tightened her grip on Shadowmere's reins as fear cascaded over her like a shroud. The horse moved with a quiet determination, pressing on despite the dangers that lay before them.

The outer rim of the forest greeted them with an eerie silence as she climbed down from her mount, fingers still holding tightly onto the worn reins.

"It's just a few trees, how dangerous can it really be?" she asked as she petted the horse beside her, praising him for keeping so calm.

Shadowmere huffed in reply, standing steadfast in the face of danger.

Only then did she hear it. The faint rustle of leaves, distant calls of mystical creatures and gentle murmur of unseen streams — a great, quiet symphony of nature.

Her gaze fell on the treeline, scanning it for even the tiniest of movements or chill of danger. She caught the occasional glimmer of elusive, twinkling lights from deeper into the Ashenwood Thicket. Just how far did the stretch of trees span before moulding into Veilstorm, she wondered. How much of the dimly lit thicket would she be able to pass through before encountering one of the creatures waiting inside?

Despite the dark, oozing shadow trailing out from the very heart of the forest, it held a timeless allure. In front of her was the start of something new. The true beginning of a perilous adventure to find the princess's lost and weary heart. What wonders were there to be seen? The treacherous beauty of a long ancient magic and creatures unlike any she had seen before.

She sucked in a deep breath and pulled lightly against the reins, guiding Shadowmere forward into the mass of bushes and trees.

Amara could feel a subtle resistance pushing against her with every step she took, as if the forest itself was warning her to go no further. She was afraid. She was in awe. Mostly, though, she was lost in the thrill of adrenaline as it began to flood through her veins.

Her trusty steed, feeling the same urge to retreat that had settled into the pit of her stomach, pulled back against her guiding hand with a defiant neigh.

"Woah, calm down. It'll be okay." Her actions betrayed her words as her fingers curled around the hilt of her sword, ready to draw it at a moment's notice.

So many had come before her. Soldiers and adventurers alike, all with their own uniquely trained skills.

Lady Seraphina Stormheart was one of the first to venture out in search of the princess's heart. A noble knight of many years and warrior of more. She had seen countless battles and once, it was said, even faced down a dragon. She was also one of the first to be lost to the depths of Veilstorm.

Sir Thaddeus Lightfoot was another. A young knight enthralled by the princess's beauty. He sought honour and glory but, most of all, he wished to capture the princess's heart. Her hand in marriage was to be his prize, a prize the desperate king had agreed to with little hesitation. Nearby farmers heard his strangled screams only minutes after he disappeared into the foliage that Amara herself now found herself venturing through.

Then there was Finnian and Gideon Thornhill, confident twin adventurers who had travelled the world together. Days after they left for the forest, Gideon returned. He had suffered wounds, but he was alive for the most part. Missing half his right arm and blind in one eye — a fresh scar etched deep into his skin. His only concern, however, was Finnian as he cried out his name over and over. Weeping so loud that it shook the very Earth. No one knows what became of Finnian, but they prayed whatever death he had met had been a swift one.

The Clockwork PrincessWhere stories live. Discover now