The Armadillo with No Heart

Chapter 5: The Compass

The next morning, Kuro roused from his sleep shortly after daybreak. This time, he jumped out of bed without hesitation as soon as the previous day's events came back to him.

The witch queen had insisted that he stay at her palace one more day in order to regain his strength. He agreed, but now it was time to leave. If he stayed in one place for long enough, his demons would certainly come back to haunt him.

Once he had finished preparations, he paid a final visit to the queen in her chamber.

"I must be on my way now, Your Majesty," he said with a respectful bow. "Thank you for everything you've done for me. I won't forget your kindness."

"I see," she said. "Before you go, there's something I'd like to give you..."

She handed him what looked like a large, dark-green compass. Although it looked heavy, it felt as light as a feather.

"This is not a normal compass," she explained. "It will show you the way out of the woods. If you follow the needle, you will be safe, and you should reach the eastern edge of the forest."

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

"I need to give you a warning as well. I have been informed that your kinsmen have already entered the woods. You must be careful."

"I will," he promised.

Kuro bade farewell to her and left the throne room, then crossed the entrance hall and the front door without looking back. With a dull sound, the palace doors shut behind him.

Kuro sighed, feeling slightly discouraged.

Here he was, back in the forest. Trees and plants of all shapes and sizes surrounded him, forming a thick maze of leaves and brambles, blocking his view of the sky. The trees themselves appeared to be watching his every move. They had been here long before he was born. Many generations of Dillos had lived and died in the time it had taken these trees to grow. Some of them had certainly seen the Dillos cross the forest two hundred years ago, in their search for a new home.

It was a strange feeling of loss – rather like waking up from a happy dream and remembering your worries one by one. He had been safe and comfortable for one day, and now, he was alone again. He had no one's protection anymore, and would have to fight for his life. Thinking that made him feel vulnerable and weak. Still, he did not regret leaving the palace. He had not yet found what he was looking for. He was not even sure what it was.

Kuro searched his backpack for the old knife; he would need it in order to make his way through the woods. He looked at the compass he had received from the witch queen. The needle was pointing straight ahead. He then suddenly remembered her warning... the others were already somewhere in the woods, looking for him.

How had they reacted to his desertion? How had it made them feel? Shocked? Furious? Disappointed? Had they sworn revenge on him? Had they vowed to find him and take his life?

How strong was their hatred for him right now?

He could not even imagine what punishment lay in store for him if he were caught. His crimes were beyond any form of forgiveness.

A few seconds later, Kuro found himself looking at the small metal needle again. It was time to move on, and there was a long road ahead. The first thing he had to do was find the way out of the forest, to the east – away from Greentown.

With the knife and compass in his hands, Kuro started to move in the direction of the needle, watching his step, taking care not to trip over the exposed roots. He would have to avoid the thick shrubs whenever possible; they were a likely hiding place for dangerous creatures, particularly snakes. Kuro knew there were two kinds of snakes in the Nymphwoods: the brown ones, which were harmless, and the poisonous green ones, also known by the appropriate name of death-vipers. One bite from one of them meant certain, painful death in a matter of minutes. When Kuro was nine, the older brother of one of his classmates ventured into the Nymphwoods with a few friends – something children were strictly forbidden from doing – and ended up being bitten in the leg by a death-viper. The boy was dead long before his friends could find help. The tragedy shocked all of Greentown.

Kuro kept moving forward, using the knife to open a path when necessary and checking the compass every now and then to make sure he was headed in the right direction. This was the thickest part of the forest, and it was much more tiresome and wearing to cross than the area near Greentown. Before long, Kuro's feet were covered in blisters, and his hands hurt from repeatedly swinging the knife. He had to make increasingly frequent stops to catch his breath and wipe the sweat from his brow. His heartbeat thundered in his ears like the pounding of a drum, drowning out the sounds of the forest.

Minutes turned to hours. Kuro began to feel tired and hungry; his chest hurt with every breath. His mind felt distant, devoid of thoughts, as if he were half-asleep. He was barely conscious of moving his arms and legs; they began to operate almost mechanically. With each passing hour, his old cottage, the hills and the river grew fuzzier in his memory, as if they were part of a previous life. Had it really been just five days since his departure?

Finally, after what felt like a very, very long time, the day came to a close. Even though Kuro could not see the sky, he knew the sun must setting, since the forest was getting increasingly dark. Only when it became impossible for him to see the way did he draw to a halt. He would have to wait until the next day.

Kuro took off his backpack and lay down on the ground. He could not remember ever having felt so tired in his life. His body was covered in sweat; his arms were so strained he was could not even lift them – but, although he was physically exhausted, his thoughts were peaceful and calm, as if the physical strain had had a cathartic effect on his mind and cleansed him of his woes. In the darkness, he could still make out the canopy some thirty feet above him. A few birds were still to be heard in the twilight; Kuro could no longer tell if they were close or far away. Their cries sounded nostalgic, almost painful – the only remains of a dying day, a day that would never come back. The ground was still wet from the rain, and the fresh scent of damp earth – Kuro's favorite smell – was almost inebriating.

Kuro closed his eyes. Little by little, his heavy breathing began to steady and slow down. The pounding of his heart grew quieter and quieter, until he could no longer hear it. Within a few minutes, he lost consciousness, falling into a deep sleep.

-----

When Kuro came to, he could tell he had been asleep for hours, and he knew it must be morning already. His sleep was often uneasy and full of interruptions, and being in a dangerous forest would normally make it much worse, but not this time. During their first conversation, two days before, the witch queen had said something that reassured him, even though he did not quite understand it. Thanks to her words, he felt calmer now than he had ever been since leaving home.

Getting to his feet, Kuro shook his head and rubbed his eyes to ward off the drowsiness. He was dehydrated from the previous day's walk; his mouth and throat were parched. Kuro opened his canteen and took a long gulp of water. It felt wonderfully refreshing; he could feel life returning to every cell in his body as the cool liquid went down his throat. He could not resist drinking more than necessary, even knowing how foolish this was.

Kuro held up the canteen. He noticed it was not very heavy. It felt like it was already half empty – or half full, though he had never really understood the difference. He had to find water soon, or he would be in trouble...

Kuro put the canteen back in his belt and his backpack on his back, then resumed his walk. He could not rest. Not yet.