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Rated: E · Short Story · Fantasy · #1949308
... and then you die.
The man opened his eyes to a darkening sky. He took a deep breath and coughed. Tears filled his eyes from the pain of the air rushing into his lungs. He took another breath and coughed again. He tried to get up, but he was too weak. He moved his eyes from one side to another, trying to get his bearings. Above, millions of stars glittered across the night sky. He saw some shadows at the edge of his vision and raised his head slightly, to get a better look. Trees. So he was in a forest. But how did he get there, why was he there? Furthermore, who was he? A sharp pain in his stomach drove all those thoughts away and brought back the tears in his eyes. He was hungry, very hungry. He raised his head as much as he could and searched the ground around him for something to eat, anything. In the din light, he saw some round shapes in the grass, close to him. Rocks, probably, but, if he was lucky... He gathered all his strength and reached for one. His hand slowly moved across the damp grass, touching something. It was slightly bigger then a fist and it was smooth to the touch, something shaped like a pear, too smooth for it to be a rock. He grabbed one and took it to his mouth, greedily biting into it. The outside was soft and bitter, but a warm, sweet liquid burst from the fruit, spilling all over his face. He drank what was left inside, and then licked the sweet nectar from his face, as far as his tongue reached. He took another one from the grass, this time biting only a small hole into the top of it, not wasting a single drop. One more, and then another and, after about three more, he was full. He let his head rest on the grass and fell asleep.

He awoke after a short while, feeling a little better. His hunger had not left him entirely, but his stomach no longer ached. He felt a little stronger, too. He sucked dry three more fruit that were within his reach, then he decided to test his strength. He planted his hands in the grass and pushed himself up. With some effort he got up to a sitting position. He smiled at this, it was his biggest accomplishment so far. He was breathing fast, it was not an easy thing to do. After he caught his breath he decided to go further. He got to his knew and, not without effort, managed to stand on his own legs. A rush of dizziness clouded his vision for a second or two, but it quickly passed. He made his first step, but his feet were shaking. When he tried to take another one, he fell to his knees. A sharp pain and a deep frustration brought the tears back into his eyes. He wiped them away, got up more determined and tried again. This time, his legs were more obedient and he managed to reach the closest tree without falling. He rested against the tree, looking inside the forest, considering if he should go in. He decided against it and turned around. To his surprise, in the middle of the clearing, a short distance away from where he lay in the grass, there was a small fire burning. The small yellow flames licked at the air, casting a small circle of light on the grass around it. Close to the fire he saw a small stack of wood, neatly arranged. He began to walk towards the fire, his mind wondering about who might have built that fire and why, when his hunger chased all other thought away again. He walked around the clearing, gathering fruit. When all the fruit that he found were gathered and arranged into a small pile, next to the wood, he sat himself down by the fire and ate some of them. He began to wonder again about who built the fire, where he was, but sleep soon came and washed all those worries away.

He woke up startled, beads of sweat lining his forehead. He had a bad dream, but he calmed down as he looked around. The clearing was empty, the fire was still burning beside him. He reached for some milk jugs, as he came to call the fruit, drained some of them then lay on his back. To his left, he saw the moon, peaking at him over the trees. The stars shone as bright as before, covered here and there by clouds that crossed the night sky. He watched the clouds dance, making familiar shapes. A rabbit here, a horse's head there, a flower, a tree. Soon, he fell back to sleep and this time no bad dreams came.
The moon was higher in the sky when he opened his eyes again, almost entirely visible from behind the trees. The clearing seemed to be brighter now and he could better see inside the forest. He looked and he saw something among the trees. More trees. He got up and decided to start exploring his surroundings. He took a few careful steps inside the forest, always looking back, always making sure his fire was still there. He braved a few more steps inside. Nothing happened, so he took a few more, and a few more, until the fire was barely visible.
He stood there, wondering if he should continue, when he heard a noise coming from somewhere in front of him. He listened carefully, realizing that he was holding his breath. There it was again, a faint rustle of leaves, or maybe something else, something scarier. His mind began making up possibilities for the source of the sound and he felt the hair standing on end all over his body. He slowly backed up, keeping his ears open for that sound. He cast a look over his shoulder to check for his fire, when a dried branch snapped, as if someoneā€¦ or something had stepped on it. He gave out a frightened shout and began running as fast as he could, not looking back. He though he heard footsteps behind him, something running after him, something that was getting closer. He tripped just as he reached the clearing and he fell. He scrambled on his arms and knees until he reached the safety of the fire. He grabbed a piece of wood from the pile and turned around towards the forest, but there was nothing chasing him. He scanned the trees all around him, but saw nothing, heard nothing besides the heart, thumping in his chest. Later, still clutching the piece of wood in his hand, he managed to fell asleep.

His next awakening was from a different kind of dream. His heart was beating fast, he had drops of sweat on his forehead, but this was the kind of dream that you feel sorry to be awakened from, the kind you hope it will come back if you can go back to sleep fast enough. He was on his belly, a big grin on his face, hips pushing hard at the grass beneath. He tried to fall back to sleep, but his rumbling stomach had a different opinion. He rolled over and looked at the sky. The moon had managed to break free from the trees and was now steadily climbing in the starry sky. He remembered he ate the last of the fruit, so he decided to go into the forest to find some more. He strode in with more confidence this time, but he still glanced back at the fire every now and then. He looked among the trees and on the branches, but saw no fruit, so he decided to go a little deeper. His eyes adjusted to the dark so he could see a fair way ahead. Even more trees. He found a bush of berries by a small stream and picked it clean.
He bent down to drink some water when he heard a noise, again, like someone walking on dried leaves. He did not run. He searched with his hands for some rocks and put them in his pocket. He took another rock in his hand, bigger, with a sharp edge and a stick in the other, all the while keeping an eye out for the source of the noise. Another snapping twig, somewhere to his left. He looked that way and saw nothing. He didn't run, though. He slowly backed away toward his clearing and his fire. He thought he saw something out of the corner of his eye, some movement among the trees, but saw nothing when he turned his head that way. He didn't run, although he really wanted to. After what seemed a lifetime, he came out of the forest. He took one last look among the trees, then broke into a run for the safety of the fire. The sound of another snapping branch came from behind him, deep in the forest.

A chill wind blew across the clearing, bringing the man back from wherever his thoughts took him. He looked up, saw the moon shining bright, but no traces of clouds. He put some more wood on the fire, and the fire grew, spreading light all over the clearing and a little way inside the forest. The fire gave heat that kept the cold away from the man's body. The fire gave him light and warmth, but it could not give him food and his stomach was demanding it, again. The man got up to his feet, took a long branch and threw it into the fire. He waited until it caught fire, then took it out and started towards the forest. His stomach was empty, his mouth was dry and his stack of wood was almost gone now. He looked at the trees around him and the trees looked back at him, they gave no sign about which way he should go. So he went the same way as before. He crossed the little stream and went on, his burning branch giving little light. He found another berry bush, picked it clean and went on, still feeling hungry.
As he went deeper, the forest grew thicker, branches were reaching for his face and roots tried to trip him. His burning branch went out so he threw it away. He was left there, in the dark, hungry and cold. But he had to go on, he had no choice. After a while of fumbling in the dark, he sat down at the base of a tree to rest. He looked up and saw something that could be fruit, hanging from branches, high above him. He got up and tried to shake the tree, to kick it, but the tree didn't reward his efforts. Seeing no other way, he started climbing the tree. It was hard and painful, there were no branches low enough to reach so he had to pull himself up along the trunk. The bark rubbed his skin, making it itchy at first, then raw and painful to the touch. His feet were sore and his fingers were numb. In the end, after all his effort, he managed to come away with seven fruit, as big as apples, and he considered himself lucky. He strode back to his camp, sore and tired, but happy about his achievement.

The moon was climbing still, ever so higher in the night sky, when he made another trip to gather supplies. He was prepared, this time. In one hand, he had a long thick stick, taller than him. One end was blunt and heavy, the other he sharpened to a point with a rock. He also found some vines and made a rope, at the end of which he attached a rock. He also improvised a torch, by putting dried moss on a stick. The moss was covered with the sap of a tree he found at the edge of the clearing, and the sap burned with a small blue flame.
He reached the fruit tree and planted his torch at the bottom. He threw the rock with the long vine over one of the branches and climbed. Using his stick, he knocked down the fruit that he could not reach with his hands. He was quite happy with himself, looking down and seeing all those fruits. He lay back against the trunk, easily keeping his balance on a thick branch, when the sound of snapping twigs came at him again. He startled, dropping the fruit he was eating and his stick. Even though he was high up the tree, he still could not see what made that sound. Snap! Crackle! This time, he saw it. Somewhere to his right, some distance away, a large shadow, as big as a horse, was moving slowly among the trees. He thought for a moment, but the solution was obvious. He could not stay in that tree forever, so he slid down the vines and grabbed his stick. He waited, but nothing came at him, nothing moved among the trees.
With his free hand, he gathered all the fallen fruit, put them in his shirt and tied the shirt around him. He retrieved his climbing vine and his torch and cautiously headed towards his fire. He thought he saw something moving again to his left, but he had already reached the clearing and the safety of the fire. He put his fruit into a hole he had dug, next to the one that held the water. He sat down by the fire, his sharp stick next to him. He was warm again, and he had food and water. But there was something out there, he was sure of it now, something that could be watching him even now. He doubted that it would come close to the fire, but in the forest, that was another matter. He would have to be more careful now.

Heavy clouds lined the sky, dark and menacing. A roll of thunder woke him up and he jumped up just as the first drops of rain fell to the ground, fell into the fire and hissed as the fire scorched them. But more drops came, larger, and the fire soon began to dwindle in front of this ongoing assault. The man quickly grabbed a small shelter and threw it over the fire. He had made it for just this situation, from twigs, leaves and a tree sap he had found that didn't burn. He put all his fire wood underneath it and squeezed himself underneath as well. The roof seemed to hold off the rain and it didn't catch fire. That was good. He threw another log on the fire making it bigger, when his eyes started to sting. He rushed out in the rain, coughing and rubbing his eyes from all the smoke that gathered under that small shelter. He had not thought that this might happen. Now, he was in the rain, watching his fire with envy. The fire was still burning, but the smoke made it impossible for him to lie next to it.
He looked around and decided to climb one of the trees. He would still be wet and cold, but at least he would be out of the rain. He climbed the nearest tree and found a relatively comfortable branch. He leaned back with his back to the trunk, nearly falling asleep, when a strange sensation came over him. Danger! He clutched his stick tighter in his hands and looked around the clearing, looked into the forest, but saw nothing, heard nothing except for the thunder and the rain. His fire was still burning, although not as bright, not giving as much light. He wanted to climb down and check on it, when he saw the source of his urgent feeling. Across the clearing, two lights shone bright among the trees, close to each other, like two hot embers from his fire. They were gone for a fraction of a moment, then came back. It couldn't have been a fire, but what then?
Lightning streaked the sky and gave him his answer. In that instant, when the night was pushed back by that flash of light, he saw the shadow. Only, it wasn't a shadow, not by far, a shadow would have disappeared in the flash. There, among the trees, a black wolf was looking at him, with burning eyes. A big wolf, probably not as big as a horse, but big still, with teeth bared in a white snarl. The wolf was looking straight at him, studying him. The world was dark again, the man was on his branch, frozen in place. The eyes were gone now, only darkness left, but the man still didn't move. The next flash of lightning shone on an empty place where the wolf used to be. After awhile, the man leaned back, trying to find sleep, but sleep was well hidden from him this time.

His next trips for supplies were uneventful. He had his wooden spear with him and he also tied a big, jagged rock with a piece of vine as long as his arm. He would use it to swing at the wolf, when he came back. But the forest was quiet, no snapping twigs, no shadows among the trees, no ambers burning in the night. He gathered his fruit in peace, he climbed up the trees and stole eggs from nests and every now and then he would catch a rabbit or another small animal in his traps. He now had the lay of the forest and he ventured a little further with each trip. The wolf rarely occupied his thoughts anymore. Sometimes, he would see the moon, shining down among the leaves, still climbing in her journey in the sky. He came to think of the moon as her, always asking his questions, never getting any answers.
On one of his excursions, he saw a small glitter among the leaves. He first thought it was the wolf, that it came back, but as he approached, he saw that it was something else entirely. He came to a tree, far taller and thicker than all the other trees around it. He looked up, but did not see its top. Instead, he saw the source of the lights. Hung from the highest branches, there were little balls of light, like small diamonds. They caught the moon's rays and broke it into a million smaller ones, of every color imaginable, that danced on the leaves of the surrounding trees. So he climbed. It was hard at first, all the branches were high out of reach, but he climbed even so, higher and higher, high enough to see over the trees, nothing but forest in every direction, high enough to see his fire, still burning bright in the distance, brighter than ever in fact, high enough to reach the small balls of light. When he reached for one, he realized that they were actually fruit, smooth, soft and warm to the touch. He picked one and put it in his mouth. Then, his heart stopped. The sweetness was unlike anything he ever tasted before, he felt wave after wave of pure pleasure, spreading from his mouth, to his arms and legs, to his head and to his manhood, he felt the pleasure filling him up until he would burst with it. Every part of if body was alive, was singing, was resonating with the Universe... and he wept. He felt bathed in light, he felt like giant arms took hold of him and embraced him, keeping him safe and warm... and he wept.
The feeling passed, leaving only a vivid memory behind, but the man continued to weep. He rested among the high branches for a while, tired, unable or unwilling to move. He was happy. When it was time to leave, he gathered some of the fruit, took one last look around, nothing but forest and never-ending forest, and he began his way back to camp. His head was light, his heart was lighter still and he no longer felt alone in this dark forest. He had a spring in his step and he began to whistle.
When he reached his fire, he lay down and put another one of those fruit in his mouth. Immeasurable and indescribable pleasure took over again and he just lay there, on his back, watching the stars and the moon. The moon was still climbing. Then, he spat out the seeds, dug a small hole close to his fire and planted the seed there. He took a sharp rock, pricked his finger and dripped a few drops of his blood on the seeds and then covered them with earth. He looked up at the moon again and saw that it just then reached its peak, it was at the highest point in the sky. He asked her to bless the seeds and to watch over them and the moon shone as bright as she could in answer. And his heart was content.

The wolf returned to the clearing. The man was sleeping near the fire, when a sharp thought woke him up. Danger! The man opened his eyes, reached for his spear and jumped to his feet. On the other side of the fire, he saw the wolf, a large dark shape, burning red eyes. He bore his gleaming white fangs, but his low growl was not aimed at the man. The wolf was a few steps away from the small tree that grew from the seeds and was getting closer. The man stared at the wolf, frozen, as the wolf opened his mouth wider. It was now directly above the small tree, threatening to swallow it whole.
The wolf felt a sharp pain as a rock hit his jaw. He backed up with a snarl, then tried for the sapling again, but another rock hit his head and another one gave a sharp pain in his ribs. The man threw all the rocks he could find at the wolf, trying to divert the wolf's attention. The wolf backed down a few steps, but did not run away. He shifted his gaze to the man and gave a deep, menacing growl, something like the sound that boulders make when they crash down the side of the mountain. He bore his fangs and sprang forward, aiming for the man. He ducked to one side as the sharp point of the man's spear tried to find his body, then lunged forward again. The wolf felt another sharp pain as a sharp and heavy rock crashed into the side of his head, tearing skin and breaking bone. The man desperately swung his flail, actually no more than a rock tied with a vine. He felt it make contact and swung it again and again. He saw the wolf backing down, then coming forward again, only to meet the sharp kiss of the spear. The wolf howled in pain, ducked to the left, to the right, trying to find an opening to the man's flash, but the spear and the rock kept him at bay. He saw a leg he could sink his fangs into and went for it, but the rock came crashing down on his head.
The man saw the wolf crashing to the ground. He let go of his flail, took his spear with both hands and aimed for the wolf's neck. He put all his weight behind the trust. At the last moment, the wolf shifted his body, the spear missing his neck, but not his front paw. The man fell to the ground, rolled around and awaited the wolf's attack, but it didn't come. He looked around, but the wolf was strides away, running towards the forest. He raised the spear above his head and gave out a cry of victory. In response, the wolf stopped at the edge of the forest, turned back and gave a shout of his one, one full of pain and anger, and something else. To the man, it felt like a promise, it seemed to say that this was not over. The man lowered his spear and watched as the wolf disappeared inside the forest. Only when the wolf was gone, the man turned and checked on his sapling.
It was fine, the wolf did not get to it. He looked up at the moon and shouted at her. He demanded why she did not protect the sapling, why did she let the wolf get so close. He was angry. He fell to his knees and began to cry. He raised his head after a while, looking at the moon again and realizing that she had helped, for the little tree was safe, after all. A warm wind started then, blowing gently among the leaves, across the grass, gently caressing his face and drying his tears. So he thanked the moon, and the moon shone bright. He asked her if the sapling will be fine, if it will grow big and strong, and the moon shone brighter. He asked her if he, the man, would be fine, but the moon gave no answer. Instead, he thought he saw the moon dropping slightly from her high place in the heavens.

Little by little, the moon was on her way down. The little sapling grew strong and mighty, and soon it was taller than all the other trees around. The man often climbed to the top, to gaze at the surrounding forest. Trees, as far as the eyes could see, but this did not bother him any longer. At times, he even slept there, among the highest branches, the tree gently rocking his sleep. There was hardly the need to go to the forest anymore, the tree gave him dried branches to feed his fire and sweet fruit for him to eat. The fruit were just as sweet and sparkling as the ones he found in the forest, but they gave him a different sort of pleasure, one that bloomed in his heart. So, he rarely stepped out of the clearing, he was content there, the small fruit fed his body and warmed his heart, so that he never felt hungry or thirsty. Or alone. The small fire at the base of the tree warmed his tired limbs, giving him light and peace. His fire was smaller now, but it was sufficient. After a time, he stopped climbing the tree that often, he was tired. He also gave up his trips to the forest as well, he was tired of those too. He would sometimes look up at the moon, smile, but never call out to her, there were little things that they had to say to one another. The moon was slowly descending, her light not as bright as it once has been, she was probably tired too. The tops of the trees around his little clearing were closing in on her, trying to hide her light from him. He stretched his limbs and yawned. He would not climb the tree tonight, sleep was already running its heavy fingers across the man's eyes. He lay by the fire and closed his eyes, already drifting off.
Danger! came a forgotten, but somehow familiar thought. Only this time, the thought didn't just passed through, like an arrow, sharp but quick. This time, the thought plunged into his head like a dagger, lodged in and twisted around and around in the wound. He jumped to his feet and reached for his spear, but his spear was not at hand. He hadn't used it in awhile. He looked at where it was, carefully set aside among two branches, next to his flail. He looked around the clearing for the wolf, wondering if he would have time to reach his weapons. The woods were quiet, no burning eyes in the dark, no ominous growl. Danger! the thought still pulsed in his head. He gathered his weapons, ate a couple of fruits, then looked around, deciding which way to go. If the wolf was not coming, he would go and find it, he would settle this now.
He started walking into the forest. He came to the little stream, bent down and took a sip. The cool water washed away the remaining sleep. He remembered when he first came upon this little stream, thirsty, dirty and scared, he remember how good the water was then too. He walked on, passed a berry bush with no berries on it, and came to the tree where he first picked fruit... that tree or one just like it, he couldn't tell for sure. He walked on trough other familiar places, wondering if he would find the tree with the sweet sparkling fruit. He didn't, not now, nor on any other of his journeys through the forest. Somewhere ahead, he saw a light among the trees, a light from a fire. Strange, he did not think that he walked in a circle and came back to his clearing... but there it was, a fire burning in the forest.
He came out of the trees into a clearing, larger than his, and was surprised. He walked these woods every which way, but he never came across this area, and he was sure he didn't venture so far into the forest into the unexplored part of it. He took a few more steps and scanned the clearing. There was nothing in it, except for a rock in the middle of it, with a hole on one side, from where a bright light flickered. He looked up at the moon and saw, with surprise, that she was very low, lower than he thought, already partly hidden by the tops of the tallest trees. He stepped into the clearing and started toward the rock. He walked for awhile but, as he thought that he should get closer, he saw that, in fact, he was further away from the rock than he was supposed to be. A wave of dizziness came upon him, when he realized that he's eyes were actually lying to him. The rock in the middle was a lot larger than it first seemed to be and the hole on the side was actually the entrance to a cave. The trees around the clearing were enormous, almost as tall as the tree with the sparkling fruit, thus dwarfing everything around them. He reached the entrance to the cave and looked at the sky. The moon was barely visible now, hidden by the tall trees. He sent all his love towards her and she replied by giving a burst of light. Just then, a warm wind started blowing across the clearing. He turned to feel the wind on his face and saw a flicker, somewhere very far away, over the trees. It was his tree, he was sure of it, one of the fruits catching the moon's light and reflecting it back, in a million colors. He turned to thank the moon for this, but the moon was gone. A whispered thank you to the dark sky, then he went in.

The cave was a descending hole in the ground, the end of it not in sight. From inside, a powerful light shone with flickers of light, like a giant fire. He started walking down into that cave, clutching his spear tight. He had a feeling that the wolf would wait for him at the end of it and he was ready to meet him. Down and down he went, the light becoming brighter and brighter, until he reached the end of the cave. No sign of the wolf, only a big fire, burning white. The light that it gave was almost blinding, but the heat was in no way scorching, as he expected. A pleasant heat came from the fire, the heat of a first kiss, of a mother's embrace, a heat full of love and... life. Yes, the fire was filled with the promise of light and life, not of a burning death.
The man took another step towards the fire, when an all too familiar growl echoed in the cave. He turned and saw the wolf behind him, slowly limping towards him. His eyes shone brighter than before, a deep red, like fire mixed with blood. His growl was low and threatening, his fur raised all across his body. The man threw the flail at the wolf, but the wolf ducked out of the way, then started running towards the man. The man took his spear in both his hands, hunkered down and waited for the charge. The wolf picked up speed then lunged towards the man. The man raised his spear and held firm, as the spear made contact and lodged itself into the wolfs throat. The wolf howled with pain. The spear broke. The wolf crashed into the man, his sharp fangs closing around the man's throat. The man cried out in pain too, as they both crashed into the fire. The fire burned brighter for awhile, then it went out.



The night was silent and dark. The stars where shining in the sky, but their light was far away from the forest. The cave lay silent and dark in the middle of the clearing. A low rumble began in the earth, and soon it turned into an earthquake. The ground was shaking violently, splitting the rock in two. A warm wind started, blowing gently across the grass, entering the gaping crack in the rock and picking up the dust and the ash. The wind picked up, blowing the ash across the clearing, over the trees. The wind blew stronger and it brought with it dark clouds, heavy with water. The rain started, washing away the dust and the ash from the air, bringing it to the ground again. Part of the ash was washed upon the trees in the forest, part of it fell into a small fire that burned at the base of a very large tree. The fire went out with a hiss, leaving the clearing in darkness. The wind started up again, scattering the clouds. The clearing lay silent and dark, only the tree left in the middle. From behind the trees, the moon was peaking at it. A small fruit caught the moon's light as it fell from the tree. The wind picked that fruit from the air and carried it far away. The little fruit flew with the wind for awhile, playing with the moon's light. Then, it came to rest on the ground, spilling its seeds on the damp earth.
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