Chapter 1
Once on a time, whether long ago or yet to come, there was born a girl in a distant land. In ages past, it had been the realm of a great and noble king. But now a shadow lay upon it, and lesser men, bitter, envious and joyless, had risen in his place. They hated the king and suffered none to speak his name. They called themselves the Committee of Ten and proclaimed a New Order. At their command the Old Places were destroyed, the Old Banners torn down, the Old Ways abolished and all were made to speak new words none understood. Villages they destroyed, forcing their people into cities of iron and steel or into camps to work the fields. And none could call anything his own.
From the time the girl was born, all but her father feared her. For her face and countenance were not those of mortal men but of the magic Children of the Wood, which had vanished with the forgotten king. Many tales were told of them in the Old Days, some of delight and song and yet others of fright and dread which mothers whispered to their children in the dark. And though as she grew the girl was beautiful and kind, there were few who were so to her. Her very beauty was in time called ugliness. For those of the New Order had no use for the Old Tales. And the girl’s own schoolteacher, seeing how her classmates cowered and shrank from her, set her in the midst of them and said, “Foolish children you are to believe in peasants’ fables! There is nothing of magic nor enchantment about this girl at all. Look at her nose, her ears, her chin—she is only deformed and carries degenerate blood.”
From that day the other children ceased to fear but rather cruelly mocked her. And though she fled often in tears from their presence, they gave her neither mercy nor respite, but pursued her with rocks and taunts and blows. Thus her life became dark and cold so that she wished to die.
The girl’s mother, weary and worn with hardship, could give her no comfort, but she received a measure of cheer from her father. Every night as she sat at his feet he would tell of former times and other lands, bright and beautiful and full of wonders. And though all others called his stories but idle tales, she believed them with all her heart, and a great desire grew in her for those places of which he spoke.
But when her mother saw that this was so, she drew her aside and spoke to her harshly. “Your father is a dreamer and a fool who speaks of things forbidden and brings danger on our house. There are no such lands and no such wonders. They are but ignorant fancies of the Old Days and have no place in our New Order. Heed them not, for the Ten’s eyes and ears are everywhere.”
Even so, she could not but listen to her father’s tales. For he spoke as one who had seen with his own eyes what he told in words. And as the years passed, she marked that he was often gone in the night and returned with the breaking of the dawn.
She dared not ask of this, for oft as she lay in her bed, she heard her mother curse both his departure and return. But as she grew into a young woman, the time came when she at last resolved to discover the truth. And on a chosen night when her father left she rose from her feigned sleep and followed him unseen.
As she did so, she saw that her father did not go alone. For at a certain place there met him several others, both men and women, some with children and what belongings they could carry on their backs. These he spoke to in whispers and led into the shadows. There she lost sight of him and returned quickly to their house. But having done so, she followed him again a second night. Again, others met him at a certain place, though it was a different one than before. Again, she lost him in the shadows and returned. This she did until seven nights had passed and she saw that he thus varied his comings and his goings as does a thief to avoid discovery. Yet he was not a thief. For he took nought with him save those who willingly departed with him into the darkness, and he brought with him nothing back.
And on the very last of these nights, she disguised herself, stole out of the house as the night began to fall, and went to the first place where her father met those who followed him. More were there, and she mingled among them to wait for him.
Then her father came as he did every night. But as he looked in the face of each who came and counted them, he was dismayed to find his own daughter in their number. Thus he said to her, “My daughter, what is this you have done? All who have gathered here do so under sentence of death and our journey will be with peril and the shadow of darkness. Why have you come here to break my heart?”
“Always have I loved you, Father,” she answered. “But you know that here there is no place for me. And long have I known that your eyes have surely seen the things of which you speak to me in tales. I go with you now that I too might see and stay.”
Then tears came into his eyes at her words and he covered his face. “Of a truth, it was wrong of me to keep you here, for I selfishly feared your loss. You have been my sole joy and consolation in these darkened days. Now I must let you go and see your face no more. For I must abide here still that I can help others escape.”
“Say not so, Father,” she replied. “This land once knew of light. And it will surely come again.”
Then all together they set off on their journey, her father leading them through the secret paths he knew beyond the lights of the watchtowers and the guards with their weapons of death.
Many times they halted and concealed themselves as a light passed over or a soldier drew near. None did move nor breath until her father signalled that all was safe. So they went for a long while in the dark, and crawled on their bellies through mud and filth and razor wire. At times they heard the barking of watchdogs in the distance and swallowed their own screams as their hands found the bones of others that tried before them and failed. Through it all her father led them on with a gaze both steady and clear.
Then at last, weary and breathless with fear, they came to a great wall forged of concrete and steel before an endless wood of towering trees that blocked out the stars.
And when the girl saw it, she knew of a truth that they stood at the border of the Dark Sector. This dreadful place had appeared in the first days of the New Order. None knew from where or whence it came: only that an army had been sent within and had not returned. From that time it was sealed and guarded and forbidden. None spoke of it save to issue warnings of a danger that none could name.
Here her father stopped and turned to speak. “My friends, you have born me company thus far and braved many dangers. But you must know that your true journey only now begins. Beyond this wall you will behold Great Terrors and fearful sights. But I bid you turn not back and stay to the paths I show you. Remember the bondage you leave behind—for through this way lies freedom.”
Having spoken thus, he led them through a cleft that lay concealed at the base of the wall, and they entered into the wood beyond.
As they did so, a cold shadow fell at once upon them all. For it seemed as though the trees themselves did move and whisper out of a darkened mist that yet glowed with a malevolent light. Groans they heard from nameless things, and saw terrible shapes within the dark.Having spoken thus, he led them through a cleft that lay concealed at the base of the wall, and they entered into the wood beyond.
As they did so, a cold shadow fell at once upon them all. For it seemed as though the trees themselves did move and whisper out of a darkened mist that yet glowed with a malevolent light. Groans they heard from nameless things, and saw terrible shapes within the dark.
“These are but phantoms,” said her father. “Heed them not!”
So they obeyed and followed on the path he showed. For a long while it seemed that they went deeper into the dark. The shadows thickened, the whispering and groanings filled their ears and pressed upon them. Many nearly fled as they beheld their own nightmares take form before their living eyes. But all these her father seized and pulled back on the path. “If you follow your fears, this place will devour you.”
Then at last, as they continued on, the shadows began to fade before a warm and gentle light.
And following him they entered into that light. Gone now were both shadows and terrors, and the trees gave of their fruit and leaves. Beyond them lay a great valley of field and grass beneath golden rays of sun, and flowers grew along streams of clear flowing water.
And following him they entered into that light. Gone now were both shadows and terrors, and the trees gave of their fruit and leaves. Beyond them lay a great valley of field and grass beneath golden rays of sun, and flowers grew along streams of clear flowing water.
At this sight a wonder took hold in the travelers’ hearts and left them without speech. But the girl’s father turned and said to them thus:
“This you see is but one of many lands that have lain hidden to us these many years beyond the Dark Wood. Here the New Order cannot reach, and there is peace and safety. Those who would may dwell in this place. But if you would see the others, follow on.”
Then a few stepped forward and remained as he led the others back into the Wood. Through the darkness they went again, yet it seemed now as but a dream that passed and was forgotten. To more lands they came, some with great mountains and hills, others with mighty seas, bright with sun, and green with all things that grew, each a place of beauty that called to different hearts. Within each he bade farewell to a chosen number of his company. Yet all the while the girl left not with any, but remained at her father’s side until all had gone.
Then at last he turned to her and said, “Why do you remain, my daughter? In all these lands is there yet none which calls to you?”
“Do you think my love so little that I could leave you so soon, my father?” she answered. “I would bear you company this final time, and to a place of your choosing. For you know the paths of this Wood, and which of its hidden places lay both far and near. There I will dwell, and would have you visit me in days to come as you bring more travelers hence.”
Then he wept and kissed her hands. “Bless you, daughter,” he said. “For of a truth my heart was broken and empty within me all this while. Now I will return in strength and continue my work sustained by the knowledge I shall see your face again. Come. There is yet one more place which is dear to my heart and I have shown to no one.”
But even as he spoke, the girl heard a strange voice in her ears. From both far and near it seemed to come, at once a thunder and yet but a whisper. A name it spoke which she had never heard and yet recognized at once.
“Claraiel.”
Knowing hardly what she did, she drew her hands from her father’s and ran into the darkness of the Wood. And she heard not his voice as he called after her.
