Work Text:
Tall, gnarled trees encompassed the land, a forest bigger and wider than any you’d find in our world. The leaves had withered a long time ago, from the branches that crisscrossed in the canopy far, far above. The ground was dry and cracked, parched of any water. How the trees were growing was a wonder as they were barely alive. The earth at the roots of the trees was more cracked than the rest of the forest, as the roots burrowed deeper and deeper, searching for water in vain. Some of the trees were unnaturally large, with spikes that made them resemble large, thorny vines rather than trees, emerging from the ground randomly. But what made this scene more eerie was the blanket of mist that wove in and out of the trees, dulling the blue tint of the light that filtered between the branches above. Although there was no water in sight, there was a stank smell of damp and rotting wood, a hint to the fact that the trees were hollow husks of what they may have formerly been. It was like the wood had given up.
Then, cutting through the silence came a sound. It was the sound of life; the sound of something breathing. It was ragged, exhausted, laboured, but it was more alive than anything in the forest. Another sound – the sound of footsteps. A human. No human had dared to venture into this foreboding forest in decades for the fear of losing oneself inside. The figure rounded a corner on one of the many winding paths the forest possessed, taking weary steps, eyes darting between the trees. They wore dirty, ripped clothing, most likely from the thorns of the larger trees, perhaps from fights or falls. They wore mismatched, faded blue trousers with patches over the knees, threads hanging from the hems, a simple overshirt and a traveling cloak over their shoulders with the hood up. Across their shoulders was a simple, hand-sewn satchel with something. Reaching inside, they produced an animal skin water flask. Taking a long drink, they trudged on.
The figure reached one of the largest trees in the forest, one that grew in a loop, creating an archway, and stopped. They stared upwards at the arc and pulled out a map from their satchel. Looking up again to check, they confirmed with a nod that they were in the right place. Now that they were standing still, a smaller figure could be seen standing next to them, a pixie of some sort, perhaps a guide or a friend. Hung around the larger figure’s neck was a simple locket, the kind that held a picture of a loved one. It was hung on a simple silver chain, and every now and then, they would hold or touch it, checking it was still there. Then came a voice – the pixie.
“It’s ok, we’ll find her.”
The figure nodded, shining tears in their eyes, and they continued their quest through the gloomy forest.