The Dark Woods

Heavy breathing. A boy running in the darkness. Flashes of brilliant light. A man's silhouette just beyond the boy’s reach. The crash of thunder. A horse neighs in shrill alarm. The sound of a cracking whip and the cry of pain. Stone grinding on stone and the face of an old woman. Bright, white hair blowing in the wind. Strong hands clasp the boy's shoulders, “Son, I’m sorry!” They push him backwards into the abyss. “Father!”

---

Roan’s eyes shot open as he lay in his bed. Sweat dotted his forehead and his chest rose and fell with great heaves. The pre-dawn light gently caressed the rafters above. It was just a dream. Might as well get up.

After washing his face, Roan looked out over the wheat fields from the washing basin near the well. The stalks were swaying in the gentle summer breeze. He then looked to the walled residence and began making his way there.

Roan was a slave on the Grimoire Estate. His job was to fix all the irrigation canals and to cut the hair of everyone on the estate, slave and free alike. He didn’t understand why but the master required all slaves to be shaved bald. Roan was one of the rare exceptions. It was a strange job but it beat being in the kitchen or the master’s personal office, that’s for sure.

After breakfast and a few morning trims, Roan went out into the fields to inspect the canals. His hair was a deep burgundy, straight, and down to just below his ears in length. A single streak of white hair roughly three centimeters wide ran on the left side. He took a small amount of pride in knowing he could keep his hair long while his fellow slaves had to be shaved.

He walked along the canal, lost in thought about the dream he had had the night before. That was the same dream…

“Roan!”

I wonder what it could mean…

“Roan!”

I can’t even remember his face…

There was loud crack of the whip but Roan felt the sting on his back long before the sound reached his ears. He doubled over in pain.

“That’ll teach you to have your head in the clouds! Answer me when I call your name you waste of space!” The one screaming was Eonard, the Grimoire Estate’s foreman. He used the whip liberally and every slave there had the scars to prove it. 

“Now stand up and help me get water flowing into the western canal! We need to figure out why it’s clogged upstream. Grab a partner and go into the woods to investigate.” Roan slowly stood up. He could feel a slight, non-serious trickle of blood seep from his newly administered whip wound.

 Jerk, I didn’t deserve the whip and you know it.

“Yes sir, Foreman Eonard. I will fulfill your order immediately.” He responded with his usual flat and measured tone. The last thing he wanted was to incur wrath unnecessarily. He knew just the person for this little excursion and headed to the fields.

At just 7 years old, his father had sold him into slavery. The first few years of his enslavement weren’t actually all that bad. The master’s late wife had taken a liking to to him and often had him play with her son of a similar age. Three years of this had Roan almost beginning to think of the master, his wife, and their son as his new family. 

However, tragedy struck when Roan didn’t see the boy behind a horse that he was tacking up. One accidental pinch of a belt on the horse’s underside caused it to buck up and kick hard. The master’s son was dead before he even hit the ground. His skull was cracked open. 

The master’s wrath and sorrow were unleashed upon Roan. He was beaten within an inch of his life, healed by the local magician, and then beaten again. Soon after, the master’s wife wasted away in her grief and eventually passed away as well. Roan was, once again, beaten as the cause of the master’s suffering. 

After that, Roan was treated as a convenient whipping boy by the others at the master's behest. No one wanted to be his friend, except one. 

About 5 years ago, when Roan had just turned 15, the master took a new wife. She came with her own cadre of slaves. Among them was Tada, a boy the same age as Roan. They became fast friends and eventually, brothers. He was the only one he could ask to go with him into the woods. 

He approached the field where Tada was working. Next to it was an open air wheat threshing barn. Tada was fast at work sharpening several sickles. The young man was shaved bald as every other slave but had black stubble on his chin and cheeks. His skin was a deep bronze from long days in the fields. Even though he carried himself well and had a lean frame, his face was gaunt and showed the years of slavery he had endured to that point in his life. He looked up and smiled as Roan approached.

“Hey! Sneaking away from work already? It’s not even mid-morning yet. Eonard is sure to take the whip to you.”

Roan turned and showed the still bleeding wound, “Already did. Hurts like hell but I didn’t want to stir his bloodlust any further by complaining.”

Tada winced in pain when he saw the blood stained spot on Roan’s back. He put down the sickle he was working on and walked over to a box on the nearby workbench. He pulled out a small vial of slightly glowing green oil.

“Sit, let me apply some of the ointment that the magicians brought last week. I only have a little left.”

Roan sat on a stool in front of the work bench and quickly took off his shirt as he groaned in pain. His back was littered with scarred white lines all across it, some fresher wounds that were still healing, and bruises from the beating he got the other night in the barracks. Tada gave a heavy sigh and shook his head.

“This is going to sting.” He said as he opened the vial and poured a little of the glowing oil onto his friend’s wound.

Roan immediately took a sharp inward breath and shuddered as the fluid did it’s work. His pain subsided as he felt the skin close where the whip had opened it. Tada saw the skin turn pale white just as all the other scars on Roan’s back.

After he put his shirt back on, Roan stood up and put his arm around his friend's shoulder. “Hey, I need your help. I have to go into the woods and was told to bring a friend and that could only mean you. So, grab your bag and let’s go!”

Tada looked at the sickle he was sharpening on the workbench. “I guess I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

Roan grinned slightly. “No, not really."

“Yeah, it’s good that I go with you. When you went alone last time, you almost got seriously injured by that group of henriders.”

“I was not seriously injured! It only looked bad. I was fine…more or less. Besides, henriders are no joke! Especially when there are a ton of them!” Roan tried to defended himself.

“A ton? There were four. And even the local guardsmen can take them out with ease. Sadly, you’re not quite up to their level. So, let’s not get into trouble this time okay?” Best friends as they were, Tada knew how to get under Roan’s skin quite easily.

After receiving two short swords from the quartermaster, they headed out past the western storehouse and began following the dry canal to its source. The slaves had taken to calling the area west of the estate the Dark Woods. Roan and Tada loved coming here. It was the only place they felt free. So, they took every chance that they were given to explore.

---

“The canal is still dry as a bone. We’ve been walking for an hour now and nothing has shown up. Are we actually going to the spring? I really don’t think we’re equipped for such a trek.” Tada complained but he did have a point.

“It’s fine. Everything will work out. Chances are a tree fell and is blocking the…”

There was a very sharp snap of wood. Roan and Tada froze. Another snap, closer.

To the left?

Snap.

To the right?

Snap.

Oh no, we’re surrounded!

Tada grabbed Roan and pulled him behind the nearest tree. More snaps. Heavy footsteps. They were all around. Just then all the birds went completely silent and an unusual chill descended on the area. The only thing that could be heard was the steady plod of heavy footsteps and twigs snapping under their weight. The two young men crouched low and silently prayed that whatever or whoever was all around would pass by without noticing them.

The footsteps began to move away and they relaxed a little. Suddenly, a gloved hand grasped the root next to Tada’s head. They froze as the owner of the gloved hand climbed over the trunk and landed directly in front of them.

A humanoid figure that looked to be close to Roan’s height was dressed in a worn canvas tunic, thick hide gloves, and well worn boots. It didn’t need the clothes though seeing as it was just a skeleton. It’s eye sockets glowed a sickly purple and it shook and swayed as it tried to stand on it’s feet again.

Roan had never seen anything like this monster before. His heart beat painfully fast. What is that thing? Why isn’t it attacking us?

It turned and locked its gaze on the two cowering on the ground. A faint humming noise could be heard emanating from its skull. It then turned to the path before shambling on. After a few minutes, its heavy footsteps faded. The regular warmth and woodland sounds returned.

“What was that? I’m shaking!” Roan blurted out after finally remembering to breathe.

“It was a bendiveer.” Tada whispered.

“A what?”

“Bendiveer. A re-animated corpse.”

Roan’s eyes widened, “Why didn’t it attack us?”

Tada stoop up. “Because we weren’t what its creator had instructed it to look for. Bendiveer’s are searching constructs. My previous master used them to search for runaway slaves. Unrelenting, never sleeping, and unwavering. They always find their mark. I wonder what or who they’re looking for.”

Roan also stood up and looked at the path ahead. “Regardless, we have to keep going. Let’s try and reach the spring by lunch. We can snack on some wild berries around there. Come on.”

They continued in their journey, hoping that the rest of this trek was milder by comparison. Sadly, it wouldn’t be.