It was a cool, windy day. The wind, stronger than any I’d felt before, made everything seem surreal, as did the sea of trees up ahead of my cart. I’d never seen a solitary living tree before, much less an entire forest, and I’d never expected to see either. You can imagine my excitement when my name was pulled from the volunteer hat to transport some of the yearly harvest to the valley village (I can’t quite recall its actual name). The sprawling forest before me was a sea of reds, yellows, and oranges supposedly characteristic of the season around here, hidden behind the barren mountains I’d just passed over. As I passed into the forest, I began to feel a kind of weight over me, and I felt as if something might jump out from the endless brush and attack me. It might have been because I’d only ever been out in the open fields of the farmlands, but I just couldn’t be sure. I feel that I was lucky, though, as I remained unscathed through the journey. Even so, the feeling only grew as I neared the clearing in which the village was built.
The village was odd. I’d been to the capitol before, and the streets there were always packed with pedestrians. Even smaller villages I’d been to have had people walking around, or at least a town guard, but not here. The streets were just empty; of noise and of substance. Even when peering through the open windows of the houses I saw no movement at all. Then, while distracted with remotely searching others’ houses, my horse suddenly reared up and stopped the cart. As I turned my head to see what all the fuss was about, I’d heard a man say,
“Woah, there.” Where there had been nothing, a man now stood right in front of my horse, facing me with an inquisitive stare on his face. He didn’t seem to have been crossing the road, he just stood there, blocking me.
“Hey. What are you doing there?” I asked. The man shook his head, and his expression broke up.
“You’re here with the harvest, right?” I nodded.
“Well, you’re headed the wrong way to the granary. Follow me, I’ll show you the way.” Slowly, he turned and began to walk away. I felt a bit odd about following some strange man who just appeared in the middle of the road, but I followed him, however reluctantly.
“Why does the town seem to be empty?” I asked him.
“They’re all setting up a nearby clearing for the harvest festival. We’ve heard that this year’s going to be a novel one.” I was about to ask more, but a strange new feeling washed over me. It was as if the empty windows and door-frames had all become eyes, and that the town itself was watching me. When we reached the granary, the man told me,
“Just go inside, you should find the manager in his office,” and he walked away.
The manager was sat at his desk, looking through a pile of papers. He didn’t seem to notice me was I walked up behind him.
“Hello. I’ve brought the shipment of grain.” He put down the papers, and said
“Good. I’ll have my assistant get right to work on unloading then.” He tugged on a little cord that hung at his side, and I heard a bell faintly ringing up above, followed by the sound of footsteps. I noticed a small wooden figurine on his desk.
“So, I hear there’s a festival today.” The man turned to face me, and said,
“Yes. The annual Arboreal Festival. A celebration of the fact that we’re the only ones with trees.” I tilted my head with slight confusion.
“Oh. I was told that it was a harvest festival.” He made a dismissive sound, and said,
“The themes coincide with the season. Best to lump everything into one, if you ask me. Less time wasted.” He realized what I was looking at, and stuffed the figurine under his desk.
“Just a small trinket. They’ll be selling them at the festival. It’s a model of an Arborimus, the supposed protectors of our unique forest. It’s said they…” He suddenly stopped, as the sound of footsteps grew louder behind me. A boy behind me said,
“Finished, sir,” and ran off. The manager turned back to me and said,
“Well, you’d better be off then. You have a long way to go.” He directed me out the door as he said his goodbyes, and as I was leaving I thought about how everyone’s voice I’ve met in this town seems monotone, and I wondered why one might go to the trouble of hiding a small figurine.
On my way out of the village I could feel the restless eyes lose interest in me and turn away. It was the trees now that seemed to survey me, and that boulder weighting my shoulders remained firmly stuck there. The winds continued still, blowing up leaves that obscured my vision. In the distance, I heard a strange rustling that sounded as if the trees were uprooting themselves at running at me to spite the ground. I thought nothing of it, however, as the bushes around me rustled aggressively in the wind. Curiously, one seemed to growl at me. I heard shouting coming from the same direction. I stopped the cart, and shouted,
“Hello? Is anyone there?” There was more rustling to my right, but there was nothing when I turned to look. The sound in the distance grew ever more intense. I was just about to pull on the reins to start moving again, when everything suddenly went dark.
When I awoke, everything was dark, save for a few candles that gave off a subtle glow. I appeared to still be in my cart, but I wasn’t in control anymore. Instead, a strange woman sat up front. When I looked out, I realized that my cart was part of some grim procession, one where everyone involved held a candle. I heard a gentle pidder-padder on the cart, and noticed that the floor had started pooling with water. I realized that it was raining, along with an extremely strong wind. I realized that I wouldn’t be able to take back control of my cart, surrounded as I was by… Enemies? I couldn’t really be sure.
“It’s upon us, you know. The Storm.” The woman up front finally said.
“Where am I?” I asked, seemingly unable to bring my voice up to more than a whisper.
“You’re with us now, trapped by The Storm. The festival is tonight. I hear it’s a special one… Guess we know why now.” I almost expected there to be a smirk on her face, if only I could see it. As we reached the end of our journey, I saw a large clearing open up before me, a giant tree perfectly at its center. From its branches hung ornaments of all different colors, and at its roots lay in a sea of stars. Upon closer inspection, the stars revealed themselves to be the small candles everyone was carrying, but it still made for a truly awesome sight. As I got out of the cart, the crowd grew deathly silent, and all knelt before the tree; all except me. For a good few minutes, despite all those who surrounded me, I felt alone. I thought about all that had surely been taken from me by The Storm by now. Taken by The Storm and by them. The silence was broken by heavy footfalls just out of the clearing, and by surprised gasps through the crowd, but I thought nothing of it, lost in thought as I was. I began to wonder about how the forest had been spared the ravages of The Storm, why they deserved to lose nothing while so many lost all. I missed the varied shouts of, “It’s one of them!”and “Yes! I knew it!” When I finally saw what they were talking about, it felt like a slap in the face. It appeared to be a tree that somehow maintained its multicolor leaves despite the season, and that somehow had arms and legs, as well as a crude face. It was a life-sized version of the figurine I’d seen on the granary manager’s desk. It raised its arm and pointed to me, but I didn’t know what that meant. I was frozen, able only to whisper,
“Arborimus…” Suddenly, I was mobbed by the crowd, and carried over to the creature, unable to fight back.
I then awoke trapped in this infernal cage, unable to remember ever having been unconscious in the first place. I don’t know how long it’s been, but I’ve been stuck there ever since. I hear the rain and wind continue outside, and all I can think of is how I wish I’d never put my name in that hat.