by Blair Aaron
Elsa got up and walked over to her tiny camping spot, crawling underneath a cloth Niklas gave her. “Here you go, miss,” he said, handing her a pillow as well. She lay down her head, the vicious tiredness overtaking her body all at once.
CHAPTER 43
Her dreams were wild and colorful, being that her proximity to Zamir and subsequently the center of the forest stimulated her imagination more intensely than it ever had been stimulated. Her eyeballs flicked back and forth underneath her eyelids, her body fighting to strike back at the colors playing in the black sky of the forest. She heard a sound in the darkness and opened her eyes suddenly. The camp was quiet, still, save the sound of the crackling but dying fire at her feet. The air was nearly freezing, and Elsa looked down at her bare feet on the ground, the damp forest floor sending prickling sticks along the skin of her feet. Elsa realized in that moment the forest was alive, continually aware of her presence. She thought about the prophecy and whether it truly referred to her. Why would the Forest choose her out of all the people from her village? There were other, stronger, more capable people. If what the other boys said was right, and Zamir as well, there must have been something special about Elsa. But she couldn't figure out what it was for the life of her. She looked around the quiet campfire, at Augustus and Humburt sleeping in the same bag, on the same pillow, at Niklas who lay shivering, no doubt dreaming of getting eaten by Zamir, at Kirbleitz's near motionless body. Then movement in her peripheral vision caught her eye, and Elsa turned sharply to the edge of the forest. Something white slithered into the forest. A serpent, she thought. She was always afraid of snakes, but there was something particularly terrifying about this one. Then she movement out of her other eye, and turning back, saw another serpent, getting a better look this time. The snake was snow-white in color, with two heads, and it was creeping over Niklas' body.
Elsa ran over to Niklas, attempting to wake him up. “Nik,” she said, trying to whisper so he wouldn't frightened the snake and possibly get bit. He didn't awake. “Niklas!” she said, louder this time. Still no response. She ran over to the edge of the forest, grabbed a long stick, then poked the bottom of Niklas' feet, the snake rolling its body over his torso. Niklas kicked the stick out of Elsa's hand, and she remembered how strong he was despite his size, even comparison to the other boys. The serpent coiled into a white, scaly rope, raising its skull in Elsa's direction, poised to strike. “Shit,” she said. “NIKLAS WAKE UP!” she said, screaming this time. He jolted up from his sleep, his gray eyes wide with fright.
“What is it?” he asked, then saw the serpent not three inches from his face. “Oh shit!” he said, scrambling out of the way, falling back into the still searing fire pit. He screamed in pain, howling even. The serpent remained coiled in striking position, staring at her, its two split heads cutting eyes at her from a canted angle. There was a recognition between the animal and Elsa. She knew the serpent had come to do someone's bidding, and in a brave rush, she ran over to the serpent, angry and furious, willing to risk all she had to get rid of the thing. But the serpent struck her, and the pain was immense. The venom seethed through her veins, pulsed through her pounding heart, and she knew in that moment, she had lost everything. Random images flashed through her mind, projected onto the back of her skull, images from her past, reminding her of Theo, spurring her to remember her own childhood cruelties toward Freja. But then she saw an image not of her past, but of her future, and how she knew this was something no less than magic. Elsa was back in Dorien's cave, rushing underneath the water to avoid his angry fire. Freja got up out of the cave, returning to the village, once she saw that Elsa was gone. Freja walked into the closet at her house, opened up the door to reveal a sleeping Theo. The bitch had him all along, Elsa thought. With a simple tap of the wand to Theo's forehead, he opened his eyes and stood up from the bed on which he had been sleeping. Elsa's anger drowned out her fear, and she vowed to destroy Freja no matter what.
But the images got worse.
Freja's body changed shape when Theo looked at her, and her appearance become something very familiar to Elsa. Freja's face took on Elsa's porcelain complexion. Freja's hips took on Elsa's busty frame, her eyes morphed into the shape of chestnuts, just like Elsa's. Invisible to both of them, Elsa stood in the darkened corner of the room, next to a warped mirror Freja used in the mornings. Looking into her reflection, Elsa could see now that every change Freja experienced Elsa also saw, but in the reverse direction: Elsa was becoming Freja, while Freja became Elsa. They were literally becoming one another.
Theo looked up at Freja from his magical stupor, somewhat confused, but upon seeing who he thought was Elsa, his cat-like smile spread across his face, and he planted a deep kiss on her lips. Elsa's heart sank with the image. There was no way this could happen, she thought. Hot anger filled her throat, in the way she imagined Dorien felt when the fire inside him reach its boiling point. She wanted to hurt Freja, to destroy her, to make her bleed. All Elsa's better qualities--her beautiful skin, her busty but unique waistline, her beautiful brown eyes, her lovely voice, all of which propped up her shaky self-esteem in the frequent moments it was most threatened--were gone, stolen from her without her consent or understanding. The unfairness of it all struck Elsa to her core, and she wanted to smite in her heart not just Freja but the universe along with it. The Forbidden Forest, nature, God, the cosmos, all of it, punished her for a fault she never consciously engaged in, for a choice she never deliberately made, and it rewarded the one bitch who least deserved it. Elsa looked down at her aging hands, her scraggly skin, loose neck, her now bony frame, tiny wrists, long slender hag nose and spindly fingers--all of it made her sick to her stomach, and a claustrophobia overcame her to the point of sickness. She watched as Theo, the love of her life, left the room with the ugliest bitch to walk the face of the earth--a woman ugly not just on the surface, but in her heart--a woman who had to steal someone else's beauty and kindness to get someone to love her. The situation broke something in Elsa, tore out a small piece of the better parts of her soul, permanently, and she was forever changed.
As the venom continued pulsating throughout her veins, Elsa could see back into the past, the day Theo arrived, as Freja watched him work out her window, the same window Elsa broke with her rocks so many years ago. Freja watched him pass in front of her window, her hands rubbing up and down the window seal. Then Freja turned around and began talking to someone unknown creature in her closet.
“Go now, get me some poison, find his true love so that she may serve me,” Freja said. The same closet she later put Theo in began shaking and a white snake, with two heads, emerged from under the door. The serpent could understand every word Freja spoke to it, as it slithered out of her place, into the town. Elsa's body began shaking uncontrollably, and when she opened her eyes, there was no doubt death had reached her.
But, fortunately for her, Niklas and Kirbleitz stood over her, taking care of her bite wound. “You got bit on the arm,” Niklas said. “I'm really sorry about that ma'am.”
“Please.” Elsa said, using all the breath in her lungs to muster the energy to speak. “Please.”
“Please what, girlie?” Kirbleitz asked, somewhat annoyed by her incoherence.
“Tell me I'm dead,” she said.
“You're alive and kickin', ma'am,” Niklas said. He gave her a silly pat on her shoulder. “What were you dreaming about? You were screaming in your sleep, until I sucked out the poison from your arm. Just think what you would have done if I had not been here,” he said. For that, Elsa had immense gratitude for Niklas, and she saw him in a new, more heroic light.
“I know who's doing this,” she said, ready for their shocked expressions when they heard what Freja was up to. Elsa knew the dream was no such dream, anymore than Zamir's dream of being bitten by the werewolf was all in his imagination. Her visions were a premonition. “We've got to get to the cottage before it's too late,” she said.
“Why? What did you see?” Humburt a
sked.
“Freja wants me here so she can take Theo. She's going to steal my appearance, and it's going to make me,” Elsa stopped mid-statement, looking down at her hand, which was already developing liver spots across the back of her knuckles. She ran over to the stream, peering over the running water, and saw the beginning of age spread across her face. “See,” she said to herself, “it's already happening.” Humburt and Augustus looked at her face in close-up, using their fingertips to examine her skin.
“Geez, lady,” Augustus said. “We gotta get you some help.”
“I just knew this would happen,” Elsa said, choking back tears. She had been so strong for Theo, willing to go to the ends of the earth to get him back, but now Freja had beaten her, and there was no way Elsa could fight back. The emotion she blocked away in the back of her mind, unable to immediately process due to her fight to get Theo back, all came flooding through the mental walls she had built to keep them at bay. She collapsed on the ground, sobbing. She cried not for Theo now, nor for the loss of her one great love, but for herself--the one person too weak to right her wrongs. She wept for all the tiny failures leading up to this major one and for her inability to understand where she went wrong, what careless blunder she made to fall into this situation. The shifter pack crowded around her body heap, rubbing her back in consolation for her grief.
“It'll be okay, miss,” Niklas said. “We're here for you. Just tell us what happened.” When she could finally stifle her sobs long enough to speak, she told them all about her dream.
“That sounds like a mess of a story,” Kirbleitz said, trying to empathize with her. “The question is: how are we going to get you back to the towns?”
“Yeah, how can we help?” Humburt asked.
They talked over it and came to the conclusion they should see what the Prophecy actually said and maybe then they would be able to leave the forest. Maybe then they could find some truth there, with Zamir's help, who had been watching them all along, his fierce green eyes glowing through an evil haze. Elsa couldn't figure out whether he enjoyed her predicament, or if he simply did not know how to relate. Her perception of him oscillated from outright horror at the monster in her midst and burning curiosity about what was going on inside his head.
They all agreed it was best that they somehow or someway got Elsa out of the forest before it was too late. Time was passing faster on the outside, and Freja knew this. If Elsa waited too long, she would be trapped in the forest forever, never getting a chance to see Theo again. The boys told her they would do everything they could to get her out, but first they needed some assurance they would have a fighting chance. Zamir reminded them they would suffer in the cottage, only able to stand its presence for so long, but they would know heavy doses of the truth while there, no matter how upsetting or painful. So they continued on.
CHAPTER 44
As they progressed through the forest, toward its center, Zamir and Elsa found themselves increasingly attracted to one another. Elsa could feel her soul pull away ever so slightly from Theo--probably because she lost some hope of ever returning to him when Freja's snake bit her--and warmed to Zamir's chaotic and wild presence. There was something so dark and devilish about him, truly evil, she was aware of without knowing why. Her image of him had morphed from a Satan-in-the forest when Lili first mentioned him, into something more sanguine and positive when he talked to her at the forest's edge, saving her, and again into something more sinister, because his attitude became more violent as they approached the cottage at the center of the woods. There was some connection he had to the natural world, and the vibrations of the woods spoke through his eyes and physical being. Zamir was nature's instrument. The feelings Elsa developed for Zamir fell outside the range of normal human experience, approaching something Biblical, a strange mix of heaven and hell.
As the entire group approached the cottage, they noticed the landscape change. The area around them went from claustrophobic lines of trees, smashing Elsa, Zamir, Augustus, Humburt, Niklas, and Kirbleitz into rubbing shoulders, the area largely filled with trees and foliage, to a much harder and rockier surface. Eventually they noticed the rocks were no mere rocks, but crystals, glowing with the spirit of nature, pulsating and throbbing red like blood flowing through a giant heart. The vision was really quite beautiful, despite all the dead animals and dying vegetation on the outskirts of the forest.
“It's so beautiful,” Niklas said, his eyes roaming from one end of his field of view to the other. The six of them continued walking in silence, except for the occasional sound of Niklas' footsteps tripping over themselves, or Kirbleitz's cloth pack bouncing around his chest. Zamir was first in their walking path, Elsa was second. As she watched him from behind, at his beautiful and massive frame, his wide shoulders and massive arms, his black hair, she found herself entranced by his character, realizing she was standing in the presence of a once great man, overcome by some evil which had overtaken him, in much the same way Elsa herself had let a shameful passion enter her heart upon meeting Theo. Elsa surmised, for a brief span of time, however, just how valid that sentiment was. She speculated about those blasphemous thoughts which continued to rear their head, even though she tried to banish them from her mind forever. Her entire history in the village, her whole innocent life before she had met Theo, before her tiny village found Lili that fateful night at the forest's edge, came rushing back to her, along with her old identity. For a split second, she saw once again, all that she had lost, and by contrast, the extent of the corruption which had overtaken her soul. The despair and sadness which came with this realization frightened her, as she remembered just exactly where she was, in the Forbidden Forest, the land of lost souls, with no hope of redemption. Her mistake, wherever it originated, left her permanently broken, with no recourse or reparation of her misdeeds. Oh, what magic it would be to return to innocence, a time where she could actually be a good person, pure and truthful, instead of snake-like, devilish, and evil! The possibility angered her.
She tried to imagine Zamir's wife, their love-making, heated and passionate, when he was a great general, long before his mighty fall. She could see herself as his wife, as much as Satan's children could marry their lovers, lying down next to him in bed, both of them naked, as he crawled onto her body, their flesh pressed together as one. She imagined the hair on his legs tickling her body, and the smoothness of his back and chest. The idea electrified her body, even though she knew it was wrong to think about such things. Even so, Zamir's story broke her heart, for someone so strong and yet so noble to be dragged into an eternity of destructive habits.
Their journey continued on, through the sparse trees and bare stones, as they passed various vegetation and animals Elsa had never seen. Up ahead, in the multi-colored light, she could see what appeared to be a fish floating through the air, yellow and green in color. But it was a bird, bloated from the sides, with tiny wings like a fly, that then took one look at her, through human-looking eyes, and then buzzed back into other parts of the forest. Elsa didn't know whether to laugh or scream. Eventually, the dirt under their feet became more and more damp, then wet, then soggy. Elsa thought the ground was slippery, but looked down at giant earthworms slipping between her toes.
“Oh God!” she said, when Zamir grabbed her arm and put his index finger to his lips. He pointed ahead at a quiet mound of land one hundred yards away from the them, surrounded by an oily, thick moat.
“The Cottage,” she whispered, worried that there might be someone waiting from them in the place. Elsa could see, at the center of a lake, a single wind mill shuttering back and forth in the oppressive darkness.
“It's hard to breathe,” Niklas said, and Zamir ushered him to lower his voice.
“I can't either,” Humburt said, putting his hand to his throat. Something sat heavy on all their chests, and the rest of the group understood what Humburt and Niklas meant. Zamir ripped off a piece of his pants, tearing the cloth into five different pieces. He motioned to the
m to put the cloth near their mouths, to filter the air better. Elsa wondered why Zamir could not just talk to them this with his mind. He must be under stress, she thought. Zamir grabbed Elsa's hand, leading her to a boat at the edge of the lake. Looking out upon the water, the Cottage stood at the center, watching them, and Elsa, along with the others, received from that Cottage an insufferable gloom which pervaded their spirits. Insufferable it was, the feeling was unrelieved by any of that half-pleasurable, because poetic, sentiment, with which the mind usually receives even the sternest natural images of the desolate or terrible, in order to find relief. The stone walls of the place were overgrown with a slimy green moss, mixed with brown decay, and rotten logs. Elsa looked upon the scene before her: the vacant eye-like windows, the rank sedges, and the pale trunks of decayed wood, with an utter depression of soul which was comparable to no earthly sensation more properly than to the moment directly before a dreamer wakes from her nightmare. There was an iciness, a sinking, a sickening of the heart, an unredeemed dreariness of thought which no goading of the imagination could torture into something more sublime or beautiful. Death, the Cottage told her. Darkness, Chaos, Evil.
