litlinks 2020

The Forest’s Dancer

by Miah Crombie, Canberra High School

As all good tales should, this one starts with an ordinary girl, chosen for an extraordinary purpose.

Every second moon would see her picking her way through rough undergrowth, branches clawing at her hair and night clothes in such a way that you could not tell if the forest was trying to dissuade her from entering, or attempting to trap her in its clutches as it had so many wanderers before. Only the moon could see the true intentions behind the insistent brushwood. Whenever it became full and its eyes opened wide, it would look down upon the forest below and see the intent that hummed beneath the surface, coursing through its wooden veins and bringing its limbs to life. This time, the forest did not want to trap and consume. It wanted to…teach.

This had shocked the moon when it first directed its soft gaze downwards, for this was something moons saw once in a blue age; occurring only when the bones of those who had lost themselves to the forest became restless. Such a rare occurrence, since it takes generations for tethered souls to wake from their slumber. For the forest to become so restless, there must have been thousands of shattered spirits crying out in chorus, voicing their festering sorrow. The forest was slowly stealing away the girl, and teaching her how to dance the spirits back to sleep. 

Of course, she was unaware of this. She knew nothing of the sinister ways of the woods or the moon’s watchful gaze. She knew nothing of all those before her who had been dragged down to the mossy floor by writhing, spindly fingers. All she knew was the calling of the woods. She just followed the pull, the voices that would beckon her gently from her warm bed. They would draw her out of her window and watch as she clambered her way over her garden walls; trading manicured lawns and pruned roses for luscious weeds and beautiful chaos. She would follow the soft music that led her across the fields and into the thicket, beckoning her deeper into the trees with its voices whispering in haunting harmony.

Every night on her journey, precisely on the witching hour, (for forests are always punctual), the pull would increase. Tonight was no exception. The hauntingly whispered harmonies sped up, becoming louder and more incessant until they succeeded in consuming her thoughts entirely. The moon observed in contemplative silence as it did every night, watching the noise slowly but surely overwhelm her. It watched her speed up, all care for her nightclothes thrown out the window as she broke into a sprint; so desperate to reach her goal and ease the cacophony ringing between her ears. 

The forest catered to her hurtling pace, shifting roots and branches out of the way, never wanting to see its dancer harmed. It was completely lost in the folly of cushioning her path, at the expense of all its subtlety. Miles away, two travellers were roused from their well-earned rest by the rapid creaking and snapping of branches echoing from down below. They gazed down in awe, watching as the canopy of the forest below writhed and danced before their very eyes, humming with the power of the arcane. Despite the distance that stretched between them and the strange display they witnessed, an overwhelming sense of intrusion loomed over them. How dare they eavesdrop on the forest as it calls for its dancer with wild abandon. They turned their backs, knowing better than to invoke the wrath of a forest. 

During their brief observation, the music rushing between the young girl’s ears had stoked itself into a wildfire, carelessly consuming all her other senses until she was hurtling blindly with no sense of direction. She couldn’t feel the wind tearing its fingers through her hair, could hardly take one stuttering breath. And she most certainly couldn’t hear her own cry of desperation as she stumbled on, knowing the end of her journey was fast approaching. 10 steps. 5 steps. One final leap….

Deafening silence slammed in around her as she burst through the clearing, the music ceasing so abruptly it knocked her to the ground. After having it rattle inside her for so long, the absence felt like a missing limb, the quiet air a suffocating blanket. She lay sprawled on the mossy ground, desperately trying to catch her breath. Mud and grass stains painted a tapestry over her bare skin and her hair was that of a bower bird’s nest, stuffed full of every scrap the forest had to offer. It was quite a sight for the moon, as it delighted in seeing this proper human being in such a wild state. 

So she lay there shivering as the silence exposed her to the elements until the softest pitter-patter began to fill the air. The ring of trees around the clearing had begun to shake, losing their leaves to air so the soft breeze could carry them gently to the ground where the girl lay. To any observer, the sound would be impossible to perceive, but to the girl who lay there in oppressive silence, it was loud enough to shake the very earth. She sat up abruptly, suddenly aware of the time that had passed. The halo of leaves surrounding her sprawled figure was a reminder; she had a job to do.

She pulled herself to her feet as a gust of wind danced through the clearing, carrying the slightest hint of a melody with it. It was nothing like the melody from before. That had been a wild, desperate thing. Clawing at her soul until she gave in to its demands. This new music was soft… tender even. The type that hums under a mother’s lullaby, and flits across sparrows’ wings. The type that tripped and whistled through the air, catching hold of the girl’s strands of hair and whisking them up to frolic with the breeze. 

It was so full of life and joy that the girl couldn’t help but giggle as she stepped forward. The melody swirled beneath her feet, growing louder with every step. It even gave delighted trills as she leapt and twisted alongside it, rushing towards a row of curtain-like branches that obscured the forest’s innermost sanctum. She laughed and giggled the whole way, captivated by how the music seemed to chirp in response. In no time, her fingers were poking between the leaves and pulling back the curtain, stepping through into an area no one but she had laid eyes on in centuries. 

The laughter halted in her throat as she came face to face with the source of the melody. The canopy was thick above her head, so thick that the moon’s bright eyes could not shed light and clarity onto her. Thankfully, the fireflies that buzzed between the branches provided her with all she needed to stare at what lay on the pedestal in front of her. The deep, boring holes of a skull stared back at her in place of eyes, and from between its perfect teeth called the melody, whistling, weaving its way to her ears. Slowly, but surely, it died away, fading to a whisper. It was a cue for the girl. It was time for her to speak.

She cleared her throat, oh so politely as this was a situation that called for the utmost decorum. After so much travelling, her voice needed the preparation. Swallowing deeply, she stepped forward so she was within arms reach of the pedestal, desperately trying to remember the steps she had been taught on her first journey here, all those nights ago. 

“Hello?”

Almost immediately, a being appeared before her eyes, so sudden that she took a step back in alarm. But she needn’t worry, the creature wasn’t physically there. Just a spirit form, a ghostly apparition of its true self. A conglomerate of all the spirits bound to the bones that comprised the forest floor. It sat gazing at her, legs as thick as branches pulled up to its chest so it could fit underneath the canopy. Its head, an oversized deer-like skull, protruded so far from its body that it spanned half the distance between it and the girl by itself. As she stared up into its hollow eyes, she felt a warmth and recognition swimming beneath their surface. It had been one with the forest for so long, and it knew exactly why she was here. She was the dancer, come to free their spirits of the restlessness and turmoil that tired them so greatly. She could see the craving to be set free bubbling beneath the surface. They were begging her to let them rest. Who was she to deny such a basic desire?

And so, with an outstretched hand and the smallest hint of a curtsey, her voice rang out into the clearing once again.

“Care to dance with me?”