The man who carried forests in his heart stood where the trees gave way to grass and sunlight. From out of the failing shadows, he peered at the cottages in the glade. A mist of memories swirled about him, whispering that this place was once his home.
He could not remember what the hamlet was called; he could not even find his own name among his muddled thoughts. Like the briars tangled in his hair, identities were scattered in his mind. Husband. Father. Woodwarden. But they seemed distant and dim. He knew only this: when he had entered the forest, he did so in service to another, one who ruled the destinies of many. But deep within the oak and fir, he had lost his way, and something else had claimed him.
It seemed an age since the moss had seized his leather and steel, and the forest shades had crept into his clothing. His brown skin had deepened to sooty black, like the soil that had devoured his boots. Now his feet were calloused and caked in mud. Musty leaf mold and sweet resin drifted with him on the wind.
The same wind brushed the wooden chimes hanging from a cottage porch. They rattled with the breeze, an empty sound, but it quickly filled with bell-like laughter as three children dashed by. The sounds were familiar, but they echoed beyond a thin veil he could not pass.
The young ones shrieked in delight as a dark-haired woman chased them playfully. Their faces appeared bent and blurred, as if draped in ribbons of water, but he recognized each one. They were older than he remembered, though still as beautiful, with tawny complexions and raven-feather hair–the same as their mother’s. He recalled lying with her in the sun long ago, that hair spilling through his hands with the texture of a summer breeze. His cheeks ached as they fought the strange impulse to smile, and he relished the mix of pleasure and pain. The veil began to fall away.
A deep chuckle joined the chorus of laughs. A man, long-limbed and strong, stepped out of the cottage with a woodsman’s axe on his shoulder. The children rushed to him, and he gathered them with his free arm, giving each a tender kiss on the forehead. The woman watched, smiling.
A sense of intrusion gripped the man in the shadows, and he scowled. Something precious had been taken from him, and he strode out of the woods to reclaim it. But a voice, soft and feminine, stayed his step.
“My guardian.”
The words hung in the air behind him like the damp of the deep woods. All around, tree roots creaked as they stretched into the earth. A cluster of white flowers blossomed in a flurry and moss spread like spilled water. In a nearby nest, a sparrow’s new eggs hatched and her children burst forth into flight.
He turned to face his mistress, Lady of Leaves and Thistle Queen; Weald Maiden to the folk who lived along the borders of the forest.
She stood before him with skin of loam and hair like strands of hanging moss. Her jade eyes nearly slew him with guilt as she moved closer with the epic creep of the forest. “Why do you leave me when I need you most?” The sorrow in her voice seemed beyond measure. “Look…”
She gestured toward the lands beyond the wood, where the forest had once grown lush and green. Now, a swath of rotting stumps like a graveyard stretched from the mountains to the valley. The trees had receded far up the slopes of the foothills, cowering from the axes that had taken their kindred.
The great woods were all that remained of the earth as it was before men learned to burn and build, and the man who carried forests in his heart grieved for the fallen wilderness. Still, he could not tear his thoughts from the dark-haired woman and the laughing children. They were… family. The word came back to him, wrapped in staggering joy and sadness.
He turned away from the Weald Maiden, but she grasped his hand and pulled him back. He reached for his wife and children, straining as he let out a feral roar. But she would not release him, and he struggled in vain. His cries turned weak and desperate, like a cornered beast, and tears escaped his eyes. “How long have you bewitched me, lady?”
She pressed her body against him. “How long have I helped you to see?”
Her kiss calmed him while arousing long dead sensations. He tasted honey and wild berries, smelled pollen and blossoms and rebirth. The ecstasy and exhaustion left him shivering.
He knew in his bones that this had all gone before, that he had failed time and again to remember what he must and return to the glade.
And he knew his final chance had slipped away.
Deep within, where the forests entwined and choked his passions, a faltering love yielded at last to brambles and yew. Now there was only his mistress, and his only desire was to keep her from harm.
The Weald Maiden breathed in his ear. “Protect me.” He nodded, and from his belt he drew a knife carved from obsidian of rarest green, like sunlight shining through a birch leaf.
In the glade, the woodsman waved to his family and headed to the hills, his axe in hand. The man who carried forests in his heart gripped his glass blade and followed.
Nicholas (Nik) Ian Hawkins‘ fantasy fiction has appeared in FLASHSHOT and is forthcoming in Magic & Mechanica (Ricasso Press, 2008) and Return of the Sword (Flashing Swords Press, 2008). He welcomes visitors at http://nihawkins.wordpress.com.
A new and interesting story is posted every day.
Subscribe to the RSS Feed! (what is rss)
Don’t miss another story! Subscribe to Every Day Fiction via RSS.
Print This Post
Print this story and take it with you; read it on the bus or over lunch.
52 Comments »
« OUTSIDE • by Stephanie Clauson | Home | BECAUSE WE CAN • by Jasmine Pahl »
Someone else who doesn’t know the difference between “lie” and “lay”.
“Lying” means “being prostrate”; “laying” is transitive (takes an object) and means “putting [something] down.”
The only instance of either of these words I can find here is “He recalled lying with her in the sun long ago,” which IS correct (at least in North American usage, I don’t know about elsewhere). So it seems the author does know the difference.
(Excellent story, by the way, Nik!
)
Congratulations to P.M. Lawrence for trying to nitpick at grammar instead of enjoying the story in its entirety, and then not even nitpicking correctly. Way to go!
I like this one a lot!
Hi Nik,
this is very powerful and evocative writing that gives a real feeling of place and your MC’s quandry. Enjoyed it very much.
Cheers,
Mark
Slow, perfect poetry. This was not only interesting and unique, but so beautifully conveyed. Too many great words and lines to point them all out. Thank you!
“Like the briars tangled in his hair, identities were scattered in his mind.” And just got better from there. I must admit, I’m not a big fantasy fan, but this is gorgeously written.
I’m also not a fantasy fan, but this story grabbed me. Beautiful piece, Nicholas.
[...] Day Fiction. If you’re interested in a reading a quick piece of fantasy flash fiction, go here. And feel free to leave a comment there or here, if you’re so [...]
Fabulous. Loved it!
Thank you all for reading and leaving your comments. I’m glad the story was well received.
Any chance of writing a longer story with these characters? I smell prequel…
Beautifully done, Nik. Congratulations
Nice work indeed–lush evocative writing here, and an interesting story.
A passionate tale Nik. Well done!
it’s good to see someone still appreciates and understands what makes a good fantasy tale. Way to go!
Great Story. I love how you use your dicriptive words. Your ending was just great. We got the idea without all the gore. Ken
Great Job! Terrific story. Beautifully written.
Nik,
This is extremely well written and I was in a trance for about 3 minutes and I want to read more…What was your inspiration for this story? I am just wondering because it is similar in theme to a couple different books I have recently read, which I really liked by the way! Way to go!
Joe
Nice bit of fantasy. Very descriptive, extremely well-written.
Amazing striking first sentence - it’s stuck in the back of my mind, words an author always likes to hear.
Sorry my remarks are late - I read your tale at work, Nik, the day of, then I got distracted by a meeting and forgot I’d never commented.
Everyone’s expressions here are all true and then some. No trampling of beautiful phrases has happened here, good sir!
Wow! You can tell a tale like taking a photograph! Awesome descriptions and entertwining yet unveiling of the story. Makes me want to read more….
Great job!
I’ve read this before, when you posted it last time.
Do you mean they actually posted my story twice, or are you insinuating that this story is just like another that’s already been posted? If that’s how you feel, why not just say that, and maybe make a suggestion for how I could have made this different?
I’ll take constructive criticism anytime, Avis, but you can keep your bitter sarcasm, just like P. H. Lawrence can stay at home with the rest of the grammar police.
Writers should help each other, not beat each other down.
Nik, e-mailing you about this. Feedburner literally posted this story to avis twice. I saw the e-mail, and we’ve been having issues with Feedburner lately.
Man, do I feel like a jerk. Curse you, Feedburner!
And my sincere apologies to Avis.
Thanks, Nik! I knew it was just a simple misunderstanding!
Beautifully written and delightful to read. I love how the contrast between the forests and the plains infuses the whole story from the opening sentence to the final conflict.
It took me a while to subscribe, but I’m glad I did. The stories on EDF have been excellent, and this one is a gem.
Gripping and emotive - you told enough to give me a sense of complete story, but left enough unsaid that it kept my imagination engaged. Nice piece of flash. Congrats!
[...] story, “The Weald Maiden’s Will,” appeared in Every Day Fiction on March 5. I’m proud to be a part of [...]
[...] The Weald Maiden’s Will [...]
While I’m a fantasy virgin, I was very impressed with your story! I was entranced with the details and descriptions. I read the entire passage with focus and interest (quite a feat for someone with pseudo-ADD!) Way to go Nik–I’m anxious to read (and learn) more–
Nik, I think so far this is my favorite story of yours. It is very well written, and beautifully descriptive. It reminded me a lot about the short piece you wrote about the Nymph dreaming of skyscrapers Sorry, I don’t remember the name of the piece, but the images still stick with me. Keep up the great work. I’m sorry it took me so long to read this. Home life has been busy as of late, and it’s only about to get worse. Keep in touch.
Solomon
P.S. I thought Avis was being a jerk too until I read further down, so don’t feel bad. =)
[...] in Top 25 at EDF “The Weald Maiden’s Will” is bouncing around the Top 25 Stories list at Everyday Fiction. It’s been hovering [...]
This is a really good story if it were written by a 6th grader.
To me, this reads like very mature and sophisticated fantasy fiction. I’m curious about which aspects of the story you found childish?
Excellent, Nik! Even 2nd-graders can recognize terrific writing!
It’s good writing. Not terrific writing, Moron.
Seriously. Is 90% of this site just about writing how much you all love every story here? Is everyone afraid to hurt feelings? I rarely come across constructive criticism. Just a bunch of ass kissing. And come on, People. Think of a new word besides “Emotive.” I’m done with this site. So if you’re going to respond, I won’t see it. Have great day and get a backbone…all of you.
Not at all. If you check some of the other stories, you’ll notice sometimes pointed criticism.
I’m not sure what you’re fed up with. There’s no attempt to silence anyone. We don’t particular care for childish insults, but we don’t delete them, nor do we delete legitimate criticism.
The problem might be that you’ve chosen a particularly well received story to rant about. Check some of the other stories and you’ll see that some of them are actually panned.
For those of you following along at home, Doug and Jones are the same person. They’re posting from the same e-mail and IP Address.
I took your advice, Jordan. Your point is valid. I read more and more stories and did observe more constructive criticism as opposed to just praise. Thanks.
Thanks Doug!
I confess, I hadn’t expected to hear from you again. I’m glad you took the time to peruse our other stories.
You’re certainly welcome to post constructive criticsm. Many of our authors appreciate it.
I was just kidding around. I like this story.
Emoticons, my friend, emoticons.
What a beautifully written story. Bravo
Thank you to all who have commented recently.
Doug/Jones, this story has been pretty well received so far, which I’m proud of, but I also know it may not be to everyone’s taste. If you have a specific critique, I would be happy to hear it.
As Jordan said, many other stories have received pointed, tactful criticism, which is one of the great features of EDF–immediate feedback from readers, writers, and editors.
Ahh…when i finished this story i had that wonderful trance-like feeling a good story brings when it’s finished, the exit from immersion.
My only nitpick is occasionaly i got a little bit lost in descriptions…but seriously that’s tiny compared to thise brilliant story.
Fantastic piece.
Thank you for the compliment and critique. Much appreciated!
[...] would like to thank Nik Hawkins for his contribution of $5. Nik is the author of the popular story The Weald Maiden’s Will. His other work can be seen in the Flashing Swords Press anthology The Return of the Sword and [...]
[...] short story I’d like to highlight this month is “The Weald Maiden’s Will” by Nicholas Ian Hawkins. It is published in the March edition of Every Day Fiction. Feel free [...]