Chapter 4: Gray Wood

Elizabeth opened her eyes and stretched, feeling more relaxed than she'd been. Sunlight beamed through her window, washing her in a brilliant golden light with a warmth that… 

She shot up, looking at the candle beside her. It was unlit, and the stool Jim had placed alongside her bed was gone. 

Something's wrong. Those were the first thoughts that tangled Elizabeth's mind.

She was sure the rules were followed- confident they were, and yet…

There were no signs that anything had occurred last night, not a stir on the floor or a blemish. If she couldn't still hear his gravelly voice, then she was confident she'd ignore it as a dream. Which was exactly what he intended; she was sure of that. 

This may be for the best. She attempted to lessen the blow any way she could; she received something in return; nothing had happened to her, all good things. But…

She set it aside; there was nothing she could do, anyway. Still, she felt chills. The door was closed, and no window was open, if anything, she was resistant to the cold together and yet it remained. It felt as if she were being watched.

 Slowly, her lips parted, trembling under a forgotten spell. Her arm sizzled like the crackling flames of a dense fire and eventually, she recited the storm's words. Feeling dreamy, like the world was spinning, Elizabeth chanted, 

"Darkness treads along the" She stopped, frozen in place, beads of sweat running down her brow.

No…

Her arm burned like a direct fire against her skin; it was nostalgic. The woods, a town in the middle of a dark, cold clearing. Snow covered the ground, and bodies began emerging underneath the mound of white ash as the moon arose. A massacre had taken place, but with no cause, no reason, no meaning. Only she and the moon had witnessed it, but only one understood. Her inflamed arm commemorated the day burning into her memory, a crude eye making its mark.

With her arm numb, she pulled her sleeve up to her elbow, and the material irritated her skin. Usually, she could ignore it, but now it seemed insistent on making itself known. Brown and wrinkled a stark difference between her white stood out hiding away a part of her past that needed to be forgotten. 

Lingering on it further would not help. She needed to get ready, as Rum must've been coming soon. She attempted to ignore it but couldn't shake it, only continuing to persevere. Just as she always did.

After changing, she waited a while, sitting on her bed. Ahead of her was a mirror leaning toward the bed. Her white-tipped hair seemed especially bright in the reflection, reminding her of a grueling fact. The thoughts she'd normally suppressed came in a wave quickly strung away, leaving only a remnant that it was there. Putting it aside, she gradually began getting worried as Rum was late.

That's unlike her

The Schnee wasn't the type to be time efficient, but not Rum, at least not to her. At the bare minimum, she attempted to respect other people's times. Something about the Schnee's long life made distinguishing how much time had passed difficult; they could, however, and Rum was one of them. 

Something's not right…I need to go.

Before stepping outside, she put on her beanie and paid one last glance to the corner, receiving nothing in return. But undoubtedly, he must've still been there watching. They were beings of their word.

Quickly, she ventured into town but found it difficult to inquire about Rum. It was gloomy, and almost everybody kept to themselves, shadowed in a depressing gloom. On any normal day, stalls would have set up along the courtyard, buzzing with traders and residents alike, but there was a silence so deafening that even the chants of the church, miles away, were caught.

From the shadows, we were born to the fire that saved us. 

We praise the being who granted us light as our-

She tuned out the rest.

Overnight, the edge of the cliff separating the shore and town had become a place for onlookers, having nothing better to do than lean against the picket fence and gaze at the hole. A group of thirty, she counted. A morbid sight, as only a yard away, was the ash of the dead.

As she turned right of her towards the direction of the main chapel, a group of gray-robed men and women seemed to walk towards her. Their steps were rhythmic to each other, like a platoon of soldiers marching into war, getting ready to stop their advance to pay mind to their first obstacle. 

What stood out most was the priest. Clad in Saven, a strong, flexible wood, from chest to midriff, he served as a warrior-priest, a revered guardian. Enchanted sigils carved into his armor, plus a mace strapped to his back (also enchanted by the reverend), boosted his protection.

While keeping her gaze averted, she attempted to move away from them. Her intentions proved fruitless as they followed. They were there for her.

The one who led the charge was a man named Stu, younger than the rest, rising to the position of priest quickly among the lass of deacons. Still, his wooden ornament paled in compared to the Reverend, a fact that surely he took with a righteous heart. However, his scarred, rough exterior proved a fact that no one could discredit; he had worked hard to get where he was. It was that fact alone that gave him a bit of leeway.

With his arms crossed behind his back, he carried an air of fabricated, sophisticated prowess. They halt in front of her, expecting a greeting that Elizabeth would not reciprocate. 

"Chieftain Daughter," Stu said, his deacons glaring at her with strained eyes. She winked at them in return, confusing them briefly.

"Yes, Father Stu, how may I help you?" He cleared his throat. The formality must've been unexpected. She knew how to carry herself among them; it shouldn't have been a surprise to anybody.

"Your father wishes you to join the church in search of a Schnee woman."

"Someone went missing?." It couldn't be Rum… could it?

It didn't take long for her wonders to be answered.

"She goes by Rum, I believe. We're setting out towards Gray Wood; you are ordered to aid."

"Isn't that against the rules?"

"As always, you are an exception. Reverend D excuses your lack of faith because of your knowledge of the forest."

She shrugged. "If my father says so, then I have no choice."

"That's the correct answer. Now, let's head off." He stopped.

"Wait, wait, wait, I don't even know what we're supposed to be looking for." 

"Your father said you'd figure it out on the way there. Now let's make has-." 

"Guards aren't coming with us?"

"The deacons and I will be enough; now, let's go."

"Okay…?"

Something felt off about the setup; Elizabeth's gut instinct immediately confirmed this. Schnee and the church were at odds. The fact remained; a priest and his deacons were sent for the opposition; clearly, ulterior motives were involved.

 What was Shane up to? She wondered. Following behind, Elizabeth kept as much room away from deacons... Many continued to glare at her. Odds are this would not go smoothly.

Alongside Stu and the deacons, she stopped at the forest's edge. Father Stu glared at one, a young woman, and gestured to be the first one to go inside. Reluctantly, she went ahead.

"Should we expect any unwelcomed visitors, Ms. Elizabeth?" The woman said, her voice quivering. 

She knows my name?

"No, at least not here. Not until we reach Cavern."

"Oh…" Her answer didn't seem to please her nerves.

Above, the trees coiled in a way that completely blocked sunlight from entering. Overlapping one another, they created a dome around the forest that naturally prevented much of the woodland life from dying. Consequently, shortly after finishing the road, they rushed the production of torches made from the trees of Paradise, a faraway town east of Diedmons Roue. The flame was lit five hundred years ago and still burns bright and strong in recorded history—hopefully, for the foreseeable future.

"If anything happens, turn to me," Stu said as they traversed deeper into the gray forest. This seemed to quell the deacons' nerves, though he clearly directed the comment at the girl. 

Father Stu had at least some knowledge of the forest—not as much as Elizabeth—but he knew that creatures always aim for the leader. Simple beings, but intelligent enough to understand the bravest and strongest, must be the ones to lead the charge. It was a sound choice. Father Stu was an important man who couldn't risk being incapacitated; it was simply the hierarchy of things they couldn't discredit. Sacrificial pawns were necessary at some points, and now they were the most prevalent.

"Chieftain's daughter." Elizabeth turned her attention toward Father Stu.

"Yes?"

"Have you heard from the Herald?" She felt hesitant to answer.

"Why do you ask?"

"I'm afraid you're his prime target. The grievance you have against us, I understand, but you are special. No one can deny that".

"And your point is?"

"Protection is always an option".

"Why do you people care?"

"For the benefit of the congregation, of course. However, others in the temple have ulterior motivations in mind. You are an enduring topic, especially among the other priests and deacons." 

Explains how she knew my name.

"I don't intend on pledging allegiance to the Eye."

"We realize. But one of these days, you might not have a choice in the matter. You've angered many with your curiosity; I can feel it in these woods. You're the unwelcome Visitor Rain mentioned. It'd be wise to learn enchantments to ward them off."

"...."

"We're close."

Hidden inside the forest, the siren sounds of creatures communicating amongst each other, little peeps and faint growls like whispers in the wind. Whether this was a trick made by the forest was impossible to distinguish, but it was always wise to keep an open mind. Within each crevice, there was a mechanism to trick. Voices that sang sweet nothings, promising filth, your ill desires. The voice was silent, however; Elizabeth noted this. 

 Spread across the forest, you would surely find the shriveled-up corpses of wanderers regretting their curiosity. One would rather pick a losing fight than their safety. By now; they had turned to the tree's assimilated nutrients for the plant life, the circle of life.

 Apparent from the entrance of the forest, which began as a small corridor that almost seemed to enclose as they traversed further quickly, revealing a separate part of the forest: a gargantuan ceiling of interconnected branches. They'd entered a part of Gray Wood called Cavern.

The path ahead had grown enormous, providing the group of ten to spread horizontally and with room to spare. Where once the torches were the standard of light, moonlight shrooms had partially taken its place. It provided the ground with a faint white hue, acting as a spotlight growing from the open sores of trees to the large mushroom stalks that hung dripping glowing strings. Twinkling among the mass of trees were the Havendall, small balls of light that feasted on the flesh of carcasses that Cavern never seemed to lack. Harmless to outsiders, even willing to give information if under the right circumstances. They were the scavengers in this sector. Dead things chose the Cavern as their final resting grounds, the only part of Gray Wood that was ever peaceful. Unless you strolled upon a creature that still clung to life, you would be their solitude, their only chance of survival. A shadowed beast gained strength from the living; humans held plenty.

 Along the path, the bodies of lanky, shadowed beings splayed across the ground carried an era of lost history. Recorded only once as a drawing far into the depths of Toblitche in Vamirs Crossing, a mountainous area with peaks reaching higher than the clouds. Hidden inside one of the many twisting and turning holes littering the rocks was a carving of a creature stalking the land of Vamirs Crossing, being smitten by the heavens, only the remnants, juvenile beings that never reached their destined place and died forever lost. 

Among the many questions about them, the most harrowing pertained to the Havendall. Although they held little in intelligence, they were, in a sense, programmed to gravitate towards the dead. However, they never came near the gargantuan, avoiding them, even moving their food away if it lay near it. Perhaps they hadn't perished but hibernating; that was Elizabeth's leading theory, anyway. Shadowed beings carried no pulse; only time would tell.

The space between the road and the trees had spread out; a large area on both sides would have eventually become a large community inside the Gray Forest if not for the rules they hadn't known. Dilapidated buildings were the last of their influence taken by the overgrowth; only a stone temple remained. Whatever bodies consumed long ago.

Rain, the young woman who led the charge, stopped and turned to Elizabeth.

"Why do you stop, child?" Stu asked.

"I… heard something."

Elizabeth went ahead next to her; "What'd you hear?"

"I don't know; it came from that direction." She pointed left. "It sounded like screams- but I'm not sure." Her heart dropped.

"That's the direction of the Schnee's home…" She heard them too, this time everyone did.

The sounds of screams mixed with snarls.