Hope arrives on wings

just something I wrote for an assignment

Just a foreword: I'm not very experienced at writing stories, this is very different from what I usually write and I would appreciate any feedback.
         A time comes when from within each person, an explorer must emerge and aid its host. Such a time had finally come for Jo and Lucy, siblings who shared the same deep, almost magical, desire for adventure. The two had traveled to the Appalachian mountains to document uncharted territory, for they had both pursued the profession of cartographers. Lucy had always loved these mountains, especially during autumn, when the leaves of oaks and maples turned to hues of deep crimson and burnt orange. Jo treasured the memories he made in his youth with his late grandfather, recalling the long hikes they took together through the forests, looking for all the different types of birds. He enjoyed the time away from his sister, who would sometimes grow slightly aggravating. The two had been raised by their grandparents, ever since their parents had died, when they were around two years old. They always remembered, even after his own death, the precept of which their grandfather would constantly remind them, “No matter what happens, always find your hope.”
         Jo and Lucy had taken quite care when preparing for this expedition, planning routes and packing the tools that were necessary to survey the land and record their findings. The day they set out for their journey, an antiphonal chorus of sweetly singing birds welcomed them to a sense of renewal and adventure in the mountains. It seemed as if nothing could go wrong or inhibit their journey.
         However, on the third day of their autumnal peregrination as Jo was sifting through their pack for something to eat, he exclaimed, “Lucy, the food has run out!”
         Lucy beratingly hissed, “I thought I told you to pack the freeze-dried meal kits that we made three weeks ago.”
         “I did,” claimed Jo. “They seem to have disappeared.”
         Lucy decided, ever the sensible sibling, “Well, there is nothing we can do about it now. We must forage for our sustenance or we will surely die. At least we will have each other to keep company while we starve.” The two postponed their quest while they searched the forest for a body of water that might sustain their needs. After searching for around two hours in the brisk, biting air, Lucy gasped with excitement, “Look, Jo, a brook!”
Jo whipped around, the glimmer of the shining water lighting his dark brown eyes and flooding his mind with a sudden sense of renewed hope. Remembering the foraging skills his grandfather had taught him, he realized, “Lucy, near the bank, there is a bush of raspberries. That ought to keep us fed for a while.” They proceeded to spend a good part of the next hour gathering berries into their packs, with many of the ripest fruits ending up in their mouths as they savored their sweet, juicy brightness. Soon, horror struck again.
         Lucy asked Jo, “Do you remember which way we came from?” He slowly shook his head, a mix of terror and disappointment washing over his face. The two surveyed the clearing surrounding the brook, looking for anything that seemed familiar. Nothing did. The path that once had been clear to the experienced cartographers seemed to have been muddled beyond recognition.The forest that surrounded the two explorers seemed to morph around them the further they searched for their way. The trees’ branches appeared to reach out at them like fingers grabbing fabric. After a while, Lucy fearfully whispered to Jo, “This clearing looks familiar. Have we been here before?”
Jo sighed, “We’ve been going in circles for the past three hours.”
The mountains shifted like clay being molded in the hands of a toddler. Everything and nothing looked familiar at the same time. Time seemed to pass like all the clocks had melted. All they knew was that it would not be long before the light of the sun would no longer grace their paths and they would have to cease their fruitless endeavor of finding the trail. Jo began to wonder if future hikers would discover their cold, decomposed skeletons when they went off trail to set up a camp. The forest air around them seemed to beckon them in every direction, and the wind sang like a sweet siren luring them to their doom. Light from the sun grew dimmer with each passing moment, threatening to leave them in the mountains alone.
         All of the birds that had been singing so sweetly earlier were now no longer to be heard or seen, for the only remains of life that Jo and Lucy could detect were the thick, tall trees that strained out what little light there was left. These trees had long lost their leaves to the cold hands of an oncoming winter, and now the two explorers trudged through the moldy, musky smelling, foliate earth. There was no way that they could find their way once more in such a vast, twisted labyrinth of vines, stumps, and suffocating limbs. Each bend in the almost imperceptible path squeezed any hope of ever returning to familiarity again. “Kreeee!,” the shrill call of a hawk interrupted the dismal silence. Lucy and Jo looked toward the sound, startled. Where they looked, a small cabin peered out at them from behind the dense foliage. They both wordlessly ran to the door of the cabin. Before they even knocked, the door slowly creaked open to reveal a short man dressed in a dark green robe. He mysteriously peered up at them, and that was when Jo realized that his face was glowing a bright green hue.
          The Hermit croaked, “I know what you seek. Come in, young travelers.”
“T-thank you, s-sir,” Lucy stuttered with an awkward bow. The two skeptically entered the wooden cabin. At once, they were blinded by a flash of bright green light. Jo and Lucy felt a strange floating sensation as they appeared to whirl throughout space and time at a dizzying speed. When all was still, they stood up, mildly dazed, and brushed off their clothes. They were in a familiar section of the path where they had stopped for breakfast earlier that day. The Hermit, who was quite steady on his feet as if he was accustomed to this form of magical travel, began speaking in the same gravely voice as earlier, “Come, children. To continue your journey, you must learn my ways or the powers of the forest will surely overwhelm you and lead to your demise.”
“Excuse me, but who are you?” asked Lucy.
“I have no name, for I have no acquaintance with such human designations,” answered the Hermit, “However, my task in this current world is to protect the magic of this forest. And to protect such magic, I must also guard those affected by it, in this case, you children.”
Still slightly stunned from the startling teleportation, Jo questioned the Hermit, “ Why did you bring us here, then?”
“It was not I who brought you here, but the wise birds, who are my leaders, for now I must teach you how to use magic. Now that you are aware of it, it can severely injure you if you are not carefully instructed in its ways,” explained the small, mysterious man who stood before them, “These mountains are filled with ancient mysteries and abundant sources of magic.”
The rest of the day Lucy and Jo spent learning the complex matters of magic. They had always been quick to learn, and very studious in their school years, often competing with each other for the top of their class. Because they were twins, their teachers had always found it difficult to separate them. This made learning magic quite easy for them. By the end of the day, although they were both exhausted, they had mastered teleportation and navigation. The Hermit declared, “You have by no means explored the entirety of this magic, but have very clearly grasped enough knowledge for you to continue on your journey. You will now be safe in these mountains.” Lucy and Jo turned, ready to continue their journey, when they realized that the Hermit had begun slowly fading away into nothingness. As they ran up to try to help, the Hermit left them with a mystifying instruction, “Remember to never speak to the trees, children.”
“Please sir, wait–what do you mean by that?” Lucy asked, but it was too late. The Hermit had disappeared into nothingness, leaving them alone on the now familiar path.
“Now what are we to do?” wondered Jo, “I suppose we should continue on our journey, but it now feels quite unimportant under our new, magical perspective.”
Lucy nodded, “I don’t know how to describe it, but I feel some indescribable need to protect these mountains.” Suddenly, a flash of bright green light blinded the two once more.
          A booming voice spoke, “Joseph and Lucille Hayes, you have been appointed to replace the Hermit as Guardians of this great range of Appalachia. You will reside in the cabin, and your task is to defend this magic and these forests with your lives. No more will you belong to the realm of men, for you will remain immortal as long as you fulfill your oath to keep the magic alive.” The forest went silent as Jo and Lucy processed what they had just heard. Lucy spotted a small, grey hawk flying relatively low, just above the treetops. Its feathers gleamed in the dying green light. Wordlessly, she directed Jo’s gaze to meet the bird.
         Jo whispered as the hawk soared away from their sight, “ Lucy, I think we’ve found our hope.”