Glade Jollin"Wha..." Vayden groaned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he pushed himself up on his elbows. The inky blackness pouring in from his bedside window told him it was very late. His mother should have been sleeping. "What's wrong?"
"We have to leave," she explained calmly. "Just for a while." Vayden watched her scurry around the room, pulling open various drawers and tossing things into a large leather bag. "Come on now, don't just sit there, we really have to go!"
"But Ma, why? Where are we going?" he asked groggily, trying to grasp the situation. Where was there to go, anyway? Surely she didn't want to go into town; she just went earlier today. And it was so late.
"I'll explain everything on the way," she replied hastily. "If there is anything you want to take, put it in this bag. We might not come back for a whi--" His mother froze, midsentence, staring out the window. Panic contorted her face. Just as quickly, however, she snapped out of it, pacing the room frantically. "I thought we'd have more time..." she mumbled to herself.
"What is it?" Vayden asked, his voice tainted with worry. He looked out the window again and saw, in the distance, torch light.
There were people coming. But, why? Nobody ever came around here; they lived in the middle of a huge forest, hours away from any civilization. The only time Vayden ever saw anyone else was on those rare occasions when he went into town with his mother. The forest gave them nearly everything they needed to survive, so she only went once or twice a year. Even then, he didn't often go with her. He preferred the wilderness and serenity of the forest to the noise and bustle of people.
"Who is that, Ma?" Vayden squinted at the distant figures, but he couldn't make out much; the darkness obscured everything but the torches.
"There's no time to explain, she said quickly. "We've gotta go now." She grabbed his hand, a little too tightly, and pulled him behind her to the back door, but he squirmed out of her grip.
"Wait!" he cried, returning to the bed where just a few minutes ago he had been sleeping. He reached out for a stuffed sheep, and pulled it close to his chest. He had seen it on his first voyage to town a few years earlier and just had to have it, so his mother broke down and bought it for him. "Okay, I'm ready," he said, taking his mother's hand again. She flung open the door and froze.
A huge, scraggly man stood on the other side, his bulk nearly filling the door frame. "'Ello, love," he grinned before lunging for her.
"No!" she cried, dancing out of the man's path. He crashed to the floor behind them with a heavy thud.
"Now, is that how you greet old friends?" The man chuckled as he rose to his knees.
"Let's go," she whispered to her son as the front door burst open. Two more men entered the room.
"But Ma," Vayden started, his face damp with tears, "Who are they? What do they want?" Nothing like this had ever happened before. Why was it happening now?
Before she could answer, the huge man's hand wrapped around her ankle, and she cried out as she tumbled to the floor. Vayden stumbled after her, their hands still locked. "Ma no, get up!' he cried, trying to pull her back. He kicked feebly at her captor's wrist.
"It's been too long," the man laughed. "You're not getting away from us this time, love." He began effortlessly pulling her closer.
"Vayden, listen to me," she pleaded, kicking at the man with her free leg. "You have to go, get out of here." She shoved the bag into his arms and wiped a tear away. "Now!" she screamed, sensing his hesitation. She watched him turn and run out the door before the other men could reach him. He ran around the side of the small home and peered over the window ledge, hoping they wouldn't see him.
"Where is it, love?" the huge man asked, holding his mother by the wrists.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she whispered, her gaze falling to the floor.
"Now, now, we don't need any of that. You know exactly what we are talking about," he grinned. "Your husband took something that belongs to us, and now it's time we take it back." He tried to meet her gaze, but it remained on the floor. She was silent. "No? Okay then. Perhaps it was in that bag you handed to your son. Boys, find the child," he commanded the others.
"No, please!" she panicked, struggling to free herself from the man's grip. "Please don't hurt him!" A crack of lightning lit up the interior as the two men walked through the door.
Vayden took that as his cue to leave. He turned and ran into the forest, but the men were quickly on his heels. As they got farther from the clearing of his home, however, the forest got more and more dense. The men kept getting held up by the various shrubs and limbs and vines in their path. Vayden, being small and thin, had the advantage, and when he got far enough ahead that he couldn't see them anymore, he hid under a large group of leafy bushes. He held his breath when the men finally caught up.
"Did you..." did you see which way he went?" one man panted. The other was doubled over, hands on his knees. "He's gotta be... around here... somewhere," he managed between breaths. Vayden feared they would find him when they started searching the area. They quickly gave up, however. "Damn, I think he's gone," the first one muttered. "Boss won't be happy about this," the other added. They turned and started to follow the trail they had created.
After a while, Vayden decided to head back himself. Maybe the people found whatever they wanted and left. His mother would be at the door, waiting for him, and when he got back they would comfort each other. She would explain everything, and maybe they wouldn't have to go away anymore. He hoped.
It was very dark, but he knew the forest well, and occasional bolts of lightning lit the way. He jumped at every rumble of thunder, however; he hated thunderstorms. The air was thick with the smell of rain, and it would surely start falling soon. He hoped he would be home before it did.
Soon he started smelling smoke, warm and acrid. Something was burning. A few minutes more and he could hear the crackling of a raging fire, and as the foliage thinned he could see it. No. No, please, no.
His house was on fire.
Vayden dropped what he was holding and ran to the back door. His mother might be in there! He stumbled backwards as the heat assaulted him, flames crawling down from the roof and licking at the bottom of the door. There was no way he could go in there. "Ma!" he screamed, choking on the thick, black smoke. He ran to the front of the house, only to find that the door and most of the wall had been reduced to a pile of smoldering ash. The fire was moving quickly through his home, devouring everything in its path. His mother, all of his things, his entire life, gone.
Fresh tears poured from his eyes, and at the same time, rain spilled from the ominous black clouds overhead. There was nothing he could do now. He took the sheep and the bag to the edge of the clearing and curled up under a large tree that kept most of the rain away. Watching the fire ravage his home, he somehow fell asleep.
-x-
Vayden awoke with a scream, a sheen of cold sweat coating his forehead. For the past year he had been plagued by these nightmares. Nightmares of flames reaching hungrily for the black clouds above, of thunder drowning out his choked sobs as thick smoke filled his lungs. He dreamed of the last time he saw his mother's face as she commanded him to run. He dreamed of angry men and of evil.
He tried not to think about the night that turned his life around as he sat up. The stuffed lamb he convinced his mother to buy him sat on a rock beside his bed of woven grass. Its beady black eyes stared into his own almost apologetically. He allowed himself a small smile, remembering the day it became his. After a minute, he got up and left his makeshift home.
Living alone in the forest was hard, but Vayden's mother taught him well. He knew which plants made good food, which could be used as medicine, and which would kill him. He knew how to hunt squirrels and rabbits, though he couldn't bring himself to kill one; his mother always did that. He even know how to weave grass and which materials were good for building. He knew how to survive.
After the first week of hanging around the smoldering ruins of his home, waiting for his mother to come back for him, he decided to set out on his own. He rummaged through the ruins of the house, finding an old knife, an axe blade that had lost its handle to the fire and, miraculously, a book that had survived both fire and water damage. It was an encyclopedia that his mother had used in teaching him his lessons. He placed the things carefully into the bag his mother had prepared before heading even deeper into the forest.
He walked for a couple of hours before finding a small clearing at the edge of a running stream. Knowing he would need water to survive, he decided to start his new life there. He fixed the hatchet by tying a sturdy stick to it and used the tool to chop down whatever trees his small arms could cut through. By the end of the day he had built a small tent-like structure which he had covered with grass matts and large leaves. Later, he would improve his new home with wooden supports that had survived the fire of his from home. He also planted some seeds that his mother had thoughtfully put in the bag and soon had a vegetable garden growing beside the stream.
Every day was the same, living in the forest. Today would be no different. He would scavenge for food to supplement what he grew in his garden. Sometimes he would steal a few eggs from birds' nests and cook them on a flat rock over an open fire. He was very resourceful for his age, after all. Insightful, even. After breakfast, he would ponder his past and his purpose. Was he destined to live alone in the woods? Sometimes he considered finding his way to the town his mother used to take him to, but he could never bring himself to do it. After what happened to her, he wasn't sure if he ever wanted to meet another human again. Humans were monsters.
He occasionally thought about the bottle with the flower on it that his mother had put in the bag. He couldn't help but wonder if it was what the men were after, and why his mother didn't want them to have it. Once his curiousity got the best of him and he opened it. He was met with a tantalizingly sweet aroma, and he was very tempted to taste it. Instead, he poured a few drops on the ground and was startled to see flowers sprout from the dirt and grow before his eyes. After that, he thought better of drinking it; he didn't like the idea of flowers living in his stomach.
Vayden stopped abruptly after hearing a strange noise in the distance. He had been lost in thought about the past year, wandering aimlessly through the forest, when a strange cry came from over the hills ahead. After hearing it a second time, he decided to investigate. Maybe today would be different after all.
Story in progress.
