In the Wood in Dreams

I was a… I’m not sure. Some kind of wood fairy I think. But I looked and acted like a human female of indeterminate age. I did live in the wood, and there were others like me, although I seemed somewhat unique in that I interacted with outsiders more than them.
With me always it seemed was a figure I knew only as Grandfather. He as very old, very wise, and almost always mute. He also carried an air of great power, sober knowledge, and heavy responsibility. He had crazy white hair and a scraggly woodman’s beard. I knew myself to be old as well. Older than any human; yet Grandfather was the eldest of us.
So it was that I came to know two humans that came to the wood quite often. They were a couple of rowdy but hilarious and good souled boys. I spoke and walked with them whenever they came around, often finding their hilarity quite contagious, and I grew quite fond of them. We were fast friends.
It was then that they told me of something they wished me to do for them. Only I could do it, and if I didn’t they would be gravely disadvantaged. Grandfather wouldn’t agree to let me go, even though he was approving of the friendship. I knew that I did not require his blessing, however. So I agreed and, they led me out of the wood to the place they spoke of.
The place- a human* place- seemed utterly alien and chaotic to me. Although I now recognize it as a school, the dream-wood being did not know it. The school was filled with many other humans that were clearly malevolent; thin veils of deceit that fooled humans did nothing for my eyes.
I observed that they ranked in order of status according to their willingness to defile, degrade, cheat, steal, and otherwise harm their virtue. So it seemed fitting that the vilest of them all was in charge. She was a woman of impressive rancor. Her pleasant visage belied her true character in a way that seemed outlandish; however her cohorts enjoyed it enormously.
Immediately I knew that, despite my good souled friend’s intentions, they had delivered me to this woman at her bidding. They were stuck in her spider web of lies, powerless in their good-willed naiveté. Still I trusted them, because they knew nothing of their betrayal.
Like a flash of inspiration, I knew what she wanted.
“I want the power of the Wood that the Grandfather holds” the woman announced. Unsurprised at her outlandish demand, I listened quietly. She became angry at my lack of response; searching for a way to show me how terribly powerful she was. She would do anything, I surmised, to make me do her bidding.
Yet her vile character was her own ruin. Knowing well that she would chase me down to the bitter end and do any horrific deed. But I was of the wood; lean and lank, full of wisdom gained there with eyes to see and ears to hear, but also full of cunning, trickery, grace, and perhaps most important of all; laughter.
I danced away, demurred. I laughed and danced and was merry. It’s something of an art, you see; to infuriate the black souled to such a degree they can see nothing else.
She followed, indignant that a wood fairy would disrespect her. It was a long chase, but I eventually led her into the wood, and to Grandfather, it was then that I let her catch me.
Grandfather was a wise soul, but he was also cunning. He appeared just as the woman began to threaten me to show her where he hid. It was comical- for me- to watch, for he appeared as a trickster, with a man hiding behind him which was supposed to represent the Grandfather. “here I am!” Grandfather announced. “Er- yes, here he is!” the imposter echoed, crouching behind in an obvious and hilarious manner.
The woman looked at the ridiculous pair, quite incredulous and confused.
The pair approached, taking pains to step in time but failing miserably, all the while wobbling side to side and flailing about in the most comical way.
The woman became so incensed, her practicality and intellect vanished. She forgot me, her hostage, and snatched madly for the imposter Grandfather. In her mad frenzy, she grabbed Grandfather and tossed him to the side, like so many rags.
As she did this, Grandfather was lifted into the air and his hand shot out like an arrow, touching her forehead with the lightest caress.
It was like an invisible arrow had peirced her. Immediately she screeched in agony, holding her forehead as if mortally wounded. She turned wild eyed on the now many onlookers, who watched solemnly.
Grandfather was suddenly his grave self, watching with no pleasure. “I’ve given you the gift.” he told the woman. “This is the Power of the wood.” he gestured at himself, and around at the still trees. The woman listened with dawning comprehension, her face seeming to drain of life. “Temporality is your past.” he stated, now soft as if talking to a small child. He smiled a sad, knowing smile that he often did. Grandfather had always been asking for someone to take his place. He was very, very old. I’m not sure anyone knew just how old. And he’d been asking for an heir ever since I knew him. He had asked me more than anyone else. Now he had one.
My own relief to know that I was not the heir was almost palpable. I was elated that my two friends had brought me exactly the right person for the job; the heavy burden of the Law of the Wood. It was a timeless occupation. Where consequences were known, felt, experienced, all the time, forever. As if temporal relationship didn’t exist at all- the tall still trees grow in the wood, and time seems to stop. Actions from yesterday and tomorrow blend together, and are experienced, for all time.
I watched the woman, and she was trying hard to understand but I knew she did not. At the same time I knew what she must be experiencing; the pressing weight of hate, of death, of sickness, woundedness, decay, and rot.
She screamed in utter despair. For her life had been spent doing the most vile and reprehensible deeds. And she must bear it.

Last updated June 10, 2019