Chapter name: Aimless Wanderings
Ireland, 2016
"We should never have come here!"
Thomas winced as the familiar words rang out from the next room. He began to retreat into his book once more, but muffled shouting and yelling continued from his parents' bedroom, until he couldn't ignore it anymore. With a sigh, he closed the book and sadly walked outside with a lump in his throat.
Thomas was alone as he walked done the forest path, shivering slightly as he pulled his jacket about him in an effort to stave off the cold. His eyes hardly moved as he passed by the trees and undergrowth around him, unseeing, plodding onwards to anywhere but here. His steps were heavy and rhythmic, a steady tempo against the soft carpet of leaves scattered across his path, only disturbed by his presence and the chill wind that signaled the death of summer and the onset of autumn. His mouth, set in a thin line, remained tightly shut as he moved on, ignoring the smell of wet grass and scent of wild flowers that penetrated his musings.
He was unhappy, although, that wasn't quite the right way to describe it. He felt, hollow, almost, a receptacle to that which surrounded him, but not all. He felt as if, should he allow it to take him, the unknown would swallow him up and carry him down a whirlpool of thoughts and feelings from which he could not escape. And he knew he could not go back, not when everything thing was so wrong.
The corners of his mouth turned down as he set his mouth into a determined frown, banishing those thoughts from his mind as a wolf would banish a traitor from its pack. He had no use for such thoughts, they would only destroy him if he let them. He was alone, yes, but it was best not to remember that, for fear he would not be able to what good he could still do. Yet his eyes still felt raw, and he could not stop the storms of thoughts and emotions swirling inside him, threatening to break his carefully crafted shell of calm and peace.
Why could he not just leave? To flee the feelings that threatened to overpower him? But try as he might he knew he could not, he was needed even if no one knew it, and he knew that he could not live with himself should he fail those he cared for. He just had to wait long enough for the right moment, if it ever came.
And so he walked, onward and forward, down towards the center of the valley; a foreign place he had never wished to be.
It was beautiful, in a wild sort of way. The oaks and pines of the woods swayed and bent in the wind, their branches rustling as forest birds flew past them, signing their sweet melodies. Herds of deer could be seen on occasion, grazing from low hanging boughs as they turned their heads to watch Thomas' passing. Foxes barked, songbirds chirped, and the setting sun painted the trees in brilliant colors of red and gold. Thomas could almost hear the screech of a hawk pierce the sky like an untethered wanderer freed from its earthly prison. It was truly liberating, and as Thomas continued to walk his steps became light and relaxed, his arms swaying at his sides. He could feel a smile spread across his face is the wake of the peaceful woods he traversed, despite his inner wrongness.
His smile vanished like startled prey when the baying of a wolf sounded in the distance. Suddenly, Thomas was afraid, and he realized just how far he had traveled. Looking back down the path, he saw only the twists and turns of the forest itself, the entrance to the woods far away and out of sight. His breathing became rapidly shallow as adrenaline flooded his body. He had to run before the wolf could find him, but where could he go?
A second howl, much closer than the first, sounded from the left side of the path, followed by a third and a fourth. Thomas became unsteady on his feet, stumbling slightly away from the noise as he tried to pinpoint its location. His breath hitched slightly in his chest when he remembered that wolves were both pack animals and killers, working together to bring down their prey. Prey that, like him, foolishly wandered the woods with no rhyme nor reason save to be there.
Thomas found himself carried by panicked strides before he could think, rushing back the way he had come. His heart hammered in his chest and his lungs burned with exertion, his mind awash in thoughts of sharp teeth and rending claws and seemingly unable to process anything else. As he sprinted around a bend, his foot slid atop the wet leaves of the forest floor, causing Thomas to lose his balance and fall heavily to the ground, rolling several meters before coming to a halt. He quickly scrambled back up to his feet, ignoring a strange stabbing pain in his ankle, and ran directly ahead, ignorant of everything save the need to get away. His eyes stared forward as he fled, heedless of leaving the safety of both home and the forest path behind.
He ran for a time without thought, until his flight abruptly ceased as he stumbled through a break in the trees and almost toppled over the edge of a large and empty expanse. He blinked in surprise as he caught himself before he could stumble, noticing that a ravine stretched out before him in either direction. A river could be seen at its base, and Thomas could see further trees at the far side of the gap. He paled at the thought of his near fatal accident and stumbled backwards, wincing as his mind finally registered the twinge in his ankle as he laid his weight upon it. He had no idea where he was, nor where to go from here.
He never got the chance to ponder his situation as the howling began once again. Fearfully, Thomas stood, listening hard, before gingerly walking along the ravine's edge. He knew that he could get out of the woods by following its course and then use that knowledge to get back home. He had spent more than enough time in the forest as it was, and surely his family would be looking for him. Not that the thought excited him, however, far from it. Thomas knew that by going back he would have to listen to his mother and father berate him for staying out so late, even though it was their actions that had driven him away in the first place. Why couldn't he have just some freedom, he wondered. Would it really kill them to let him do things he wanted? Well, he mused dryly, I may already have that area covered. If I can't get back before the wolves do, it won't matter what I want.
A slight twitch of vegetation to his right had him searching the growth around him, eyes darting across the tree line. It was getting harder to see as the sun dipped below the horizon, and Thomas redoubled his pace, clambering onto an outcropping of rock to gain get a better sense of direction.
He blinked once more in shock as his new vantage point revealed a black and gray bridge of weathered stone to his vision, completely still and unmoving. It connected to his side of the gorge only a few feet away and continued in a lonely arc across the ravine until it flowed in a graceful curve into the other side. Squinting, Thomas could see a small gap in the trees close to the far edge, and he, despite himself, felt his heart leap at the sight. He could use this bridge to travel over the valley, and, perhaps, the gap signaled the start of a new path which could lead him home. He could even make it before dark!
Grinning, but still hesitant, Thomas stepped onto the bridge and began moving forward. The howling of the wolves could still be heard behind him, but now it sounded both quiet and muffled, as if from a great distance. And as Thomas walked, he noticed something strange about the bridge itself. As he bent down towards it, he realized the stonework was covered in carvings of every shape and size: circular suns and small hands, small cuts forming intricate lines and patterns, and wolves' heads intertwined with each other in a beautiful display of masonry and stonework. He did not know who had made this stunning display, but Thomas was grateful, nonetheless. It was not every day he got found something this magical on his own.
He stepped off the other side of the bridge and unceremoniously crumpled to the ground as his ankle gave out from under him, having been exhausted of what little strength it had managed to retain. Grumbling and glaring at the stabbing pain, Thomas began to rise once more but was halted when howling came from the gap in the trees, causing Thomas' heart to skip. They were in this forest too, he thought, but before he could run his ankle flared with pain and he fell to the edge of the ravine once more. He could only watch helplessly as a trio of the large predators stepped out from the gap in the forest itself; with practiced precision they quietly advanced, teeth bared and growling menacingly.
Thomas stared weakly back, wondering if wolves generally ate people, and attempted to move his leg as he crawled back the way he had come. His only success was to get his foot stuck in a gap between two large rocks at the base of the bridge, which caused the toe of his sneaker to tilt in an alarming direction before he jerked it back in blind panic. With a sickening crack, white-hot pain flared as his trainer flopped at an unnatural angle, and Thomas could not think for the pain. He knew there were wolves, but that wasn't nearly important as his stupidity and the agony in his ankle. He had done it again, he knew, cursing himself to try to distract from the pain. Stupid, stupid, stupid!
The howling came from directly in front of him now, and Thomas tightly shut his eyes in preparation for the end.
It never came.
Instead, Thomas whimpered in pain as what felt like a human hand gently guided his foot back into place, followed by a powerful warmth that lit up his ankle like liquid fire. He chanced a look at his captor and lost all his focus in dumb shock.
A large woman garbed in a green robe knelt before him, cradling his foot in her lap. She was howling softly along with a wild haired girl beside her, and both their hands were shining with golden light as they rested upon his injured leg, a ring of wolves surrounding them. Thomas stared in disbelief as the golden glow revealed bruising and cuts all along his ankle, which were rapidly fading from existence in the radiant glow. He blinked again as the last of the scratches faded from view and the light faded, before looking up in shock.
They were so similar they must be mother and daughter, he thought, both staring at him in an unidentifiable manner that seemed neither welcoming nor hostile. The woman was even taller than he had thought, their robes unkempt and worn, as if used for a long time without change. The little girl had a streak of dirt running down her forehead between her eyes, and both had tribal marks dotting their cheekbones. Each was surrounded by the wolves, he realized, but the beasts weren't attacking nor acting hostile in any way. Was that woman responsible? And how and his ankle been, for lack of a better term, healed?
"H-How did you do that?", he asked plaintively.
Silently raising one hand, the woman pointed down the ravine to his right, and he silently tracked the direction she had pointed before rising slowly to his feet. His ankle held his weight normally as he tested it, and he half wondered momentarily if this was all a dream. The barking of the closest wolf jerked him back to reality and he quickly walked away along the ravine, turning back only to see the woman lead her pack into the trees behind him and swiftly disappearing. He sighed in simultaneous regret and wonder before raising his head and falling into a run himself, leaving both the bridge and the magic of the wolf-woman behind. It was past time to go home, even if he couldn't do anything about his situation.
After rediscovering the forest path and wandering along it for what seemed like hours, Thomas emerged into a secluded glade that overlooked his new hometown. Scrambling onto the large root extending from the giant oak centered in the middle of the clearing, he gazed out upon it with a smile on his face. He didn't think he'd ever be so happy to see it in his life, and with a skip in his miraculously working step, Thomas descended the hill in high spirits.
However, when he finally left the forest, he could only stare dumbly ahead at what lay before him.
For the town he saw, no matter how much he wished it, was not the one he had left behind earlier that day.