Here's just a little short story I found myself writing one very dull afternoon! In the middle of his journey, Zancrow finds himself in a paradise... I hope it brightens your day!
Other than the sharp crunches of the freshly fallen autumn leaves and the twittering of the birds in the treetops above, all was relatively quiet. Despite it being autumn, the air was still warm – but not humid – and the sun was still shining with its last bit of might before it began to disappear behind the dull winter clouds. Stopping to look around as a dark shadow blotted out the sunlight, Zancrow saw that he was in the very heart of the forest now. The trees here were gnarled and ancient, twisting branches reaching slowly and clumsily for the little light that filtered down here. The girth of some of these trees were incredible, an grisly old oak he saw a little way off was by far the biggest of them all, its crown dominating the area around it, almost creating a little glade. Rushing towards this little haven, Zancrow promptly tripped over something and fell magnificently into the long grass which tickled his nose and made him sneeze. Looking crossly over his shoulder to see what had dared tried to trip up the great, mighty Zancrow, he saw that he had caught his foot on a knobbly, old tree root that had forced itself above the ground. Grinning and pulling himself free, he muttered out loud, 'what a dump…' rolling his eyes theatrically, even though there was no one here at all except for himself.
Watching where he was going this time, he made his way towards this gargantuan oak. It seemed to grow larger and larger the closer he got to it, the sunlight above seeping through the multi-coloured autumn leaves and peering around the thick branches, causing dappled sunlight to dance across the grass as some of the thinner branches swayed in the light breeze. Standing before the trunk, Zancrow put his hands on his hips imperiously and examined its pockmarked surface interestedly. There was the odd bug crawling laboriously up the trunk, little black dots of ants, and a pretty, shiny beetle here and there. Wondering if he could, Zancrow stretched his arms around the rough trunk, seeing if he could reach all the way around it. He wiggled his fingers, trying desperately to clasp his hands together, but there was no way he was ever going to manage it – his arms were simply too short; it would surely take at least three Zancrows with their arms spread wide to surround the massive girth of this ancient tree. Arms still wrapped around the crooked plant, he realised that he must really look like a fool with the position he was in. Hurriedly letting go and peeling himself away from the oak, he looked around self-consciously, hoping no one had spotted him. Then he yet again realised that there was no one else here, and there would probably not be for a good while yet. Zancrow sighed and thought to himself that he might be the first person here in a very long time. After all, some of the deeper forests that bordered Bosco were places no one would dare venture into. And then for the last time, he realised that he was probably right in the heart of one of those deeper forests that bordered Bosco that no one would dare venture into. But this place didn't seem bad at all; the sun was bright, the birdsong was beautiful, the trees were ancient and had a certain feeling of stability to them, as if even a war could not tear them down. Perhaps he had been lucky enough to stumble upon a paradise in his journey that no one had ever seen before. It could be his own secret haven!
He laughed and swung himself up onto a low-hanging branch of the oak, wanting to climb to the very top and survey his new kingdom, which he had henceforth proclaimed himself king of. Despite being small, years of wizardry had made him strong, and he effortlessly scaled the tree, using its time-worn ridges and bumps up and down its trunk as footholds. After a couple of minutes, he finally reached the highest bough, scrambling up onto it and shuffling backwards to rest his back against the tree's vast trunk. From here – far above the crowns of all the other trees – Zancrow finally had a bird's eye view for miles around. It was like a sea of green that seemed to stretch on forever, reaching all the way to the horizon in all directions. Seeing this huge expanse before him, he muttered softly, 'Toto, I've a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore…' This place was like nothing he had ever laid eyes on before. He wasn't even sure how a place like this could go unnoticed for so long, but obviously it had. A light breeze then ruffled the treetops below, making them ripple like mere blades of grass. Zancrow felt the wind tickle his face and he sniffed it. It smelt beautiful - fresh and green, with that woody, earthy scent that could only be smelt when one was next to especially rich soil. The forest was so absolute in all directions that Zancrow started wondering if he would ever get out of here. He found that didn't especially care. It was tranquil and perfect here; a beautiful place for him to spend the rest of life. He'd even forgotten why he was on a journey in the first place.
Looking out onto the horizon, watching the sun dip gradually behind the treetops, growing larger and larger, and redder and redder, Zancrow decided that he would sleep here for the night. The sun setting and the breeze rushing around the trees had an almost hypnotic effect, sending him gradually to sleep. The sky grew darker, the air became colder and the scents became muskier as the world ended its transformation into night. Stars began to shine into being, just as they did every night. If nothing else remained the same, you could always count on the sun setting and the stars shining. But Zancrow was not aware of any of this. Before the sun had sunk fully beneath the edge of the sky, he had fallen asleep slumped to one side; the serene scene before him had put him completely at ease. As he slept, the world around him went on, some parts of it bustling and busy, other parts of it growing dark and subdued. But the forest remained the same as it did every day, reliable as ever. If nothing else, this place was somewhere where anyone could always find peace.
Nice and peaceful... I promise I'll be back to writing Black Flames and Blank Mind soon, I've already written half of the next chapter! But anyway, I hope you enjoyed this short story. Perhaps I should do more!