"You're not supposed to go beyond the woods. There are dangers among humans. Do you understand?"
She could not shake off the feeling of guilt gnawing at her; her palms itching as if they wanted to move on their own. Her heart pounded against her chest, loud and wild, as if witnessing a dying person made her the perpetrator. It was just too loud, her heart pounding, it deafened her ears to other sounds—the soft breeze making the trees rustle lightly and the gentle hops of wild animals hiding behind the bushes—that would otherwise make it quite a serene walk in the forest.
His body was covered with dirt and dried blood.
Biting her lips and clasping a fist against her chest, she looked around—only to see animals—hoping that these innocent creatures would affirm her next choices of action. She glanced down at the blonde on the ground, perfectly still under the sun, the shadows of the trees protecting his face from the bright light, agonizing in pain.
Her heartbeat seemed to have gone wild as she tried to step closer to the blonde on the ground. Her shadow sheltered him more from the sun. 'This is wrong,' she thought, but there was something about this certain wrongness that she could not resist.
Was it the fact that she was ever kind, that if it were a wounded bee she would reach out and help fix its wings?
Or was it for the very reason that it was a being so akin to her visage and yet so fragile?
Or was it because the voices of ancient teachings scolded her to never interact with humans?
It was so long ago that she could not recall what the elders said exactly. Were humans dangerous? Or was there simply a danger among humans?
Was it a metaphor or were they being direct?
Her fingertips touched his pale, sweaty, and cold skin. At this point, her own agonizing thoughts came to a halt.
In the comfort of the temporary shade she gave him, and the slight touch of her fingertips to his face, the man tried prying his eyes open. Perhaps it was painful—or did he look fearful for a split moment?
"Leben Sie noch?" her voice quivered a bit, her fear washing over her being again. She is not supposed to even speak with humans.
He grunted. He clasped his sides, stopping where it bled the most. Blood from his sides looked fresh. The rusty scent of blood made her scrunch her nose.
Did he understand her? Humans and druids spoke the same language a millennium ago. It couldn't possibly have changed too quickly now, could it?
"Herr Löwe, bitte hilf mir."
That was probably the last thing he heard, as he completely passed out after a moment of consciousness. She glanced down once more, worry painted all over her eyes, as a lion stood next to her and joined glancing down at the poor human.
"Don't go into the woods. You have no idea what kind of dangers await when Enchanted Beings catch you. They won't let you back where you belong."
—
He did not know the day or time when he finally woke up. However, the first thing he saw were vines forming a dome above him and the flowers that decorated the greens. The scent of aromatic sweet tea finally made sense to him, as he had been wondering what that warm smell was. Then things became clearer to him: the feeling of a haystack underneath the thin fabric he was lying on; the warmth of the sun enveloping him; the soreness of his body all over and the sharp pain on his sides; the view of a massive lion sleeping next to him; and the sight of a beautiful woman patching him up with leaves.
"Sie haben endlich aufgewacht. Wie fühlen Sie sich jetzt?"
He did not understand a thing she said. That only made sense; she barely resembled a human being with those long blue locks and emerald eyes. She was one of them, the enchanted beings living in the forest, out to kill lost humans.
Her skin was so fair, it seemed to glitter. No, her skin was glittering. He was not delusional. Strangely enough, every time her fingertips touched his skin—be it a graze or a light grip—his stomach felt like he had butterflies.
He groaned, unsure whether the strange feeling in his stomach was butterflies or his insides dying.
He tried to stare at her face.
Damn, he thought. He understood why the elderlies warned about going deep into the woods. This enchantress looks way too ethereal. Her beauty probably kept people in captivity in the woods. Now he understood that feeling in his stomach.
He looked around once more, checking for human bones of her previous victims…
Sadly, all he saw were a massive lion sleeping next to him, a pair of bunnies eating grasses by his feet; a couple of birds chirping on the ceiling; butterflies fluttering here and there; and this beautiful enchantress treating him with mushed leaves.
"Where am I?" he looked at her, waiting for her answer. The longer he stared, the louder his heart pounded in his chest.
She scowled.
"Auch Menschen sprechen jetzt eine andere Sprache. Entschuldigung, aber ich verstehe Sie nicht. Nicht mehr."
For a moment, she sounded melancholic, but he did not know a word she said, whatever it could have meant. He kept her under his hazy stare, unsure if he himself was succumbing to this dreamy place and feeling. When he caught a glance of her hands glowing as she patched up his wounds, the pain slightly subsided.
"Why are you helping me?" he tried asking despite the language barrier. All she replied to him was a kind smile—in which his heart took the blow. It felt wrong to suddenly be a child liking someone in an instant because they look, well, angelic.
"Are you one of them? I never knew your kind was real. All my life it sounded like a myth passed down to us; a superstition supposed to keep us from the woods." He rambled, hoping she would understand him, or perhaps he was trying to keep himself distracted from the now-awake lion staring at him.
The lion looked nice and cuddly—no, he was not thinking of hunting it and skinning it for his comfort. It simply looked amiable resting its head on its big paws. Those big paws. He snapped out of his thoughts when the lion yawned.
"Ich weiß es nicht, wie können wir zusammen reden."
He chuckled, responding to her smile. He still had no idea what she said.
"My name is Len," he said, reaching out a weak hand to her. She looked aghast, but she grabbed his hand and shook it.
"Das habe ich verstanden. Mein Name ist Michaela."
He was surprised, but this time he was sure she introduced herself as Michaela. Much more to his chagrin, her smile and her hand weren't so good for his heart and butterflies. For some reason, the lion snuggled close to him, giving his face a lick. Perhaps, it was a greeting too.
The village outside the Heimatswald seemed to forget Len's existence. Was it a decade by now? Or a couple more? The elderlies, when they were younger, used to talk about a brave blonde boy who ventured out into the forest—Heimatswald, one summer's day. The village had been suffering from bandits wandering around their village, stealing their livestock, and robbing village houses.
It was the beginning of summer. It was unfortunate to have seeds and grains stolen before they could be even planted. The families would starve without their farm animals, but these things seemed to get lesser and lesser—unless someone could do something against the bandits.
That was Len, the son of the village hunter whose father passed away a year ago, who stepped out carrying his father's tools. Len's livelihood was to hunt for wild animals when their population threatened their crops. His job this time was similar, but a lot more dangerous.
During his observations in the forest, he caught the trail the bandits used to sneak in and out of his village. From a tall tree, he managed to take some of them down. However, a few more escaped. It was during the chase when things started looking bad for him.
Len knew about the stories of the Enchanted Beings, but his own father did not believe them, for he had been deep in the forest. The chase was violent for Len's feet, for he would rather jump from trees to trees than having his ankles caught by the large bulging roots of these massive old trees. The forest floor was covered with a thick layer of dried leaves that decomposed over the years—hence one step could be a lot deeper than it looked.
It was during this chase when a wild boar—biggest one he had ever seen—joined the chase. The poor animal likely felt threatened by all the noises and thought someone was out to hunt its shoat. The chase went on, Len and the bandits driven deeper into the forest, into which during his inattention, the bandits struck him on his sides, wounding him deep enough to have him faint.
Of course, none of the villagers knew about it. No one knew about Len passing out due to a life-threatening wound, and in the moment of his unconsciousness, the bandits tried hunting down the wild boar.
No one also knew about the Enchantress materializing from the old tree where the bandits were near at, and how her instincts took over her rationality seeing humans endangering forest life. Her hands touched their faces, those further got caught in her thick tendril-like hair—choked. The bandits' lives were absorbed back into the forest.
When the Enchantress came back to her senses, there was but a scared wild boar cowering from her. She smiled, reaching out to pat its head gently.
"Hier kann Ihnen niemand etwas tun."
She went ahead and took a walk, not remembering what she just did. Her elders feared her as a young druid and gave her a whole forest to live on by herself. It was fun for many years, living with lovely animals and watching them grow.
It was supposed to be a normal walk in the forest, enjoying the sun and the serenity. However, following the unusual trails on the forest ground, she ended up seeing a human bleeding to death.
No one from the village knew about what happened to Len after that. The people of his age back then had had families, and their children had children—and they told the same story to everyone:
"Don't go into the woods. You have no idea what dangers await there. There were bandits, there were Enchanted Beings, there were wild animals. Just don't go."
Len didn't know that it had been a couple of decades by now, but time seemed slow with this Enchanted Being. Her smile and the serenity of the place made him stay with her. It was as if he had become an apprentice to her, helping on her daily tasks—helping animals when they were wounded, or fixing some parts of the woods destroyed by natural means.
"Thank you for saving me," he told her one night as they sat in front of a bonfire. Animals huddled around—this was straight out of the children's book he used to have.
He watched her lips move, uttering words that rendered meaningless to his ears, but he hoped it was along the lines of 'you're welcome.'
"Ich kümmere mich hier um Leben."
When Michaela touched him that very day she rescued him, the forest showed her what happened to him, who he was, where he was from. A lost kid following the trail of his father, Leon. She knew the man, the hunter who asked her permission to hunt down wild animals when they posed danger to the village.
Michaela was a stranger to human benevolence and cooperation, so she asked for a condition—a life for lives. A life important to him should be given to the forest, for the lives of her dear animals would be taken away from her.
" Ich biete dir meinen Sohn an," Leon told her. "Wenn die Zeit kommt, wird er so weit gehen wie ich auf deinem Gebiet, dann wird er dir gehören."
Michaela smiled remembering her brief interaction with the man, and smiled even wider on how she now had a company in the forest.
"Hier kann Ihnen niemand etwas tun, Len." She grabbed his hand, feeling its warmth.
Now, she would not be alone.
Translations (in order of appearance):
1-Are you still alive?
2-Mr. Lion, please help me.
3-You have finally awakened. How do you feel now?
4-So humans speak a different language now. Sorry, but I don't understand you (humans). Not anymore.
5-I don't know how we can talk (converse) (as in the sense of speaking different languages.)
6-That I have understood. My name is Michaela.
7-No one can hurt you here.
8-I protect the lives here (in the forest) (meaning, the lives that belong to the forest).
9-I offer you my son. When the time comes that he steps as far as I did in your grounds, he shall be yours.
Author's note: Not sure if anyone's still reading but, this story just came to me listening to this song: Butterflies (by Tom Odell & AURORA). Obviously, Michaela here doesn't have the normal human morale, as she isn't human. Helping Len is like helping the creatures of the forest. Len's life was offered by his father without Len knowing.
It feels nice to be able to write something again after a long hiatus.
There's a prompt from a guest review in 2018. It's interesting, might work on it. Thanks for the idea!