Into the Forest: The Hero's Soulyte 1

  Chapter One

  Into the Woods

 

  CYRUS GROANED UNDER the weight of the supplies, almost toppling over when the shopkeeper tossed on another load of preserved food to the pile. He had everything he and his companion would need at least for a week or two. The forest where they were headed was infected by an evil famine, reducing its resources to inedible and toxic fare. Food was key to surviving their journey.

  Unfortunately his female companion couldn’t disagree more.

  Sitting on the windowsill of the small shop, idly braiding a small piece of her long, snowy hair, Magdeline’s priority was more about comfort. She had insisted on purchasing two of the more cozy sleeping packs, extra blankets, more clothes, soaps, rope, as well as miscellaneous items, all of which she refused to carry herself.

  The hero’s supply of jewels was dwindling to nearly nothing. With the purchase of a wet stone, the last blue gem was dropped into the palm of the shopkeeper. Cyrus sighed in resignation but he wasn’t entirely disappointed. The city of Harben considered him a true hero, him having liberated them from clutches of a vile beast that terrorized their home. Its residents couldn’t thank him and Magdeline enough and they had given him what they could for what little money he had. The town had almost been completely demolished by the monster but much of the necessary wares and supplies had been stored underground.

  Among his new rations, Cyrus was also the proud owner of a good sword—one that wouldn’t shatter after one blow.

  He thanked the shopkeeper and hobbled out of the store, trying to keep from knocking over anything and keeping everything from falling. He collapsed outside and began to organize their supplies into some form that he could carry easily. Magdeline had followed him out and sighed.

  “Aren’t you ready yet? We really should get to the forest before sundown.”

  Now that Cyrus wasn’t completely focused on his heroic duties, Magdeline’s presence had once again made him nervous and uneasy. She was standing close enough for him to almost feel her breath on his neck. He flushed and tried to inch away from her. Both of them had been in Harben for the past couple of days, but not even after slaying a creature or helping rebuild the city could give him the confidence to even look at her, much less speak to her. Not surprisingly, the knowledge of his fear of women had spread and had already earned him some good-natured teasing from a number of city-folk.

  Cyrus managed a stiff nod. He rolled the sleeping packs tightly and tied them to the large pack. Some smaller bags filled with food and water canteens were tied to the outside. With a grunt, he stood and wrapped the straps of the pack over his shoulders. It was still ridiculously heavy but at least now, it was more manageable.

  As they exited the city, they were showered with the well-wishes and gratitude from the crowds of residents. Most of them had returned from their trip as refugees, so the streets were bustling once more. The city had begun to look like a city again. Cyrus shook the hands of almost all of the men; his shoulder was throbbing with the force of all the enthusiastic pats it had been given as they made their way through. Magdeline was also the recipient of the people’s gratitude and admiration. Cyrus thought she deserved it. While she hadn’t been of much help in the rebuilding, it was due to her quick-thinking and magic that they had been able to defeat the monster in the first place.

  About an hour into the slow exodus out of Harben, Magdeline turns to him and asked, “Can we go now?” she hissed through gritted teeth, a fake smile still plastered across her face. “We have to be there before nightfall.”

  Cyrus nodded his reply as he untangled himself from the boisterous hugs of yet another villager. The two of them left in a wake of cheering people.

  The path to the North stretched over a vast field of golden grass. Harvest was fast approaching and they came across a few people in the fields, preparing and gathering what they could before the famine reached them.

  They were told that they would reach the cursed land within a day’s travel. As the afternoon sun was fading into the twilight of the early evening, Magdeline’s voice stopped him in his tracks.

  “Look at those shadows,” Magdeline said, raising herself to her toes to get a better look of the rolling hills beyond. “The forest must be close.”

  When they got closer, what they had thought was shadow was actually blackened grass. Its once-green blades now as dark as ink and seemed to be frozen, immobile. Cyrus stood over it warily, noticing the black creep closer and closer to the healthy field. It killed each blade instantly, turning it into a deep pitch black. Magdeline hung back as Cyrus stepped over the line of line and into the dark. The grass crumbled under his feet but he was unharmed.

  Magdeline followed suit, cringing at the ugly landscape. Before long, they began to pass other cities that were all abandoned. And the towns looked as if they had all been deserted in a hurry; doors hung open and overturned carts full of now-rotten harvest littered the streets.

  “I guess they were scared when they saw that blackness getting closer,” Magdeline said in a whisper.

  Around them, the black and gray landscape made it look it was already night time. The strange grass was getting taller and taller, and later it wasn’t like walking in shadows any longer. The ground was so dark it was like walking into a void with only the sky to guide them. Cyrus was almost afraid to stop, afraid to be swallowed up by the endless darkness while he slept but they finally neared the forest before nightfall. If the field had been nerve-wracking, it was nothing compared to the forest. The trees were as black as the ground, twisted and hard as stone. There was no sound and the air smelled like the cold of winter. Cyrus looked up at the forest’s edge and saw that the leaves had not fallen, nor did they move. There wasn’t even a breeze.

  “Come on,” Magdeline urged, though her voice wavered. “It’s not that bad. I’ve been in the forest before.”

  Cyrus looked at her. He realized then that he knew almost nothing about her. The only time he could talk to her was when she was in her cursed form as a faerie. She couldn’t speak when she was in that state. However, she knew everything about him. It was a little unfair. But he knew that was his fault. If he couldn’t get over his fear of speaking to women on his own, how would he ever be a great hero? Heroes were meant to help damsels and that was precisely what he meant to do—even if it meant taking a detour.

  “The witch is close to the edge of the forest; I remember that much. If we go just a quarter of a mile in and go around the perimeter, we should come across something. Of course, the forest does look a little different than it did last time.”

  Magdeline took the lead. Though the Forest was dense, some trees were spaced just far enough between that Cyrus could get through them despite his giant pack. Magdeline wove between the trunks effortlessly, almost like a beam of light with her pale hair and shining clothes. Even if Cyrus couldn’t speak to her, he was more comfortable being around her now than he had been in the beginning. That is, at a safe distance, of course. The conversation was mostly one-sided, with her doing most of the talking, uncaring whether he spoke or not.

  “I’m sure there’s nothing left here. There’s nothing else to eat now that the forest is completely dead.” She bowed her head and sighed. “We’ll be lucky if the witch is even still here.”

  A sound broke through the quiet and Cyrus ducked behind the trunk of a tree. Magdeline did the same and inched closer to him. Her hair tickled his hand as she crouched. The sound grew louder and fallen limbs snapped under the weight of some unknown creature sounded like explosions.

  “It’s a demon,” Magdeline whispered.

  In the darkness, Cyrus could see the faint outline of the creature trudging by. It was fairly small compared to other monsters, able to slip through the forest without getting caught in the tightly packed trucks. It was covered in dark, oily fur and had spiraling horns. It walked on four legs and while it wasn’t very large, each heavy step and footfall made the ground shake. It opened its m
outh and let out a long hiss.

  Cyrus gripped the hilt of his sword.

  The creature didn’t seem to notice their presence as it continued amble past them into the blackness. It wasn’t until they could no longer hear its steps that Magdeline spoke again.

  “I guess creatures that don’t require plants to survive this place, thrive here,” she said, standing. “We should be careful. Unlike them, we can’t see well in this forest.”

  Cyrus nodded in agreement. It was already nearing impossible to see beyond an arm’s length and his back ached with the weight of his pack. He swallowed his fear and, with his chin held high, was about to suggest that they stop for the night.

  But as he was about to speak, Magdeline piped up, “Let’s stop for the night,” she said.

  His words were lost in a gust of air as he exhaled and let his once squared shoulders slump. So much for taking the lead on things, he thought. He dropped the bag to the ground and rolled his shoulders in an attempt to alleviate the numbing ache. Magdeline leaned against a tree with her arms crossed while she waited for him to unpack.

  He did so quickly, feeling the sting in his joints with each movement. He unrolled the sleeping packs and a thought occurred to him, leading his face to turn beet red. Where would he put them? How would he place them? He couldn’t put them side-by-side. Would it look too strange to put them far apart? How far apart would still seem normal? His fingers fumbled with one of the packs as he tried to buy some time to think. He unrolled the mat slowly and it fit snugly between a giant evergreen and two saplings. When he’d run out of excuses in his head to for him to avoid the other pack, a nervous sweat beaded his neck.

  “W-Where...” he stammered. “W-Where do you...”

  His voice was barely audible as he struggled to say the words without sounding completely awkward. However, he was failing miserably. Magdeline rolled her eyes.

  “What? Speak up!” she snapped.

  “Where do...you, um,” he trailed off. His voice was louder now but still the words wouldn’t come out. “S-Sleep...?”

  Magdeline let out an exaggerated sigh and snatched her sleeping mat from his fumbling fingers, tossing it towards the opposite direction of the two saplings. The mat landed just a foot away from Cyrus’ cot. She then got on her hands and knees to smooth it out, after which she reached over to Cyrus’ rucksack to tug a blanket free from the pile. Of course she’d take the thicker one, Cyrus thought bitterly for a moment. He then shook his head to clear his head of his fleeting annoyance. He was not a selfish person by any means. If she wants the thick blanket then she can have it.

  He stood up to gather some twigs and fallen branches when Magdeline stopped him.

  “Don’t,” she said. “All these things are too dead and dry to start a fire. Besides,” she took a look around them, “We don’t want to give away our locations to whatever’s out there.

  Cyrus nodded as he put the wood down. It occurred to him that there was more to Magdeline than meets the eye. She knew how to survive in the forest. Very few people could say that—least of all a woman who seemed to be more vain and spoiled than resourceful.

  Who was she?

  She tucked herself into the blanket, curling her knees to her chest without saying a word.

  “Good night,” Cyrus whispered too quietly for her to hear.