You do not need to fear

[Lief Erikson]

“We do not need to fear,” Pevari Kiish told his son. “The forest of Kimron is a forest, not an animal.”

Vajunt Kiish looked into his father’s eyes, his own shining with uncontrolled fear. The two men were sitting side by side at a table in Vajunt’s house, near the eastern border of the region called Southern Alflick. The region Southern Alflick was part of the larger country Alflick, one of three regions bound together by alliances that made up the whole of the country. The region called Northern Alflick had to also deal with the forest of Kimron also. Northern Alflick once had fought a mighty, ongoing war against the forest of Kimron. It could only be called a war. Many of the nations surrounding Kimron had fought such wars against the woods. The great country called Katchar had used its full resources to fight the forest of Kimron when the wood had advanced into their country, and Katchar had been victorious. Many had died in the endeavor to cut back the forest and force it outside Katcharian borders. Northern Alflick had not been so successful. The forest of Kimron had advanced into its borders, dense foliage and dark trees rising within Northern Alflick from the direction of the forest outward. The native Alflickians that lived in those parts had fought the trees, resisting their advance with axe and torch. Those that cut the trees were frequently found killed. The number of murders of loggers and carpenters in Alflick had grown wildly, out of control. Wild animals from within Kimron killed some of the men. Evil elves within the woods killed others. Many more were found with twigs, bark or leaves in their wounds. Many of the bodies of people killed were found violently torn apart, but not eaten. Some had been ripped apart, others crushed by ferocious blows. Some suspected trolls of having committed these crimes. Others suspected the trees themselves. The trees had advanced a great distance into the region of Northern Alflick and filled the land they occupied with densely packed dark trees. The part of Northern Alflick they had conquered became known as “Risen Kimron”, a place that all civilized people of Alflick abandoned. Those that did not abandon it were absorbed into the forest and became part of the menace it presented. Since its invasion into Northern Alflick, Kimron had not expanded further. Many people of Northern Alflick believed the forest was a living entity, a spirit of hatred and murder. They were terrified of the place and those living on its borders lived in fear. Some of them even offered sacrifices to the woods, in the hope that these would prevent it from exerting its wrath upon them again.

Southern Alflickians had heard the stories, but none except some of those that lived on the forest’s border had felt the reality.

Vajunt was a short human man, only five foot four in height. His father was shorter still. Both were dressed in hide clothing, garments made from the skins of animals they’d caught and killed for a living. Vajunt placed his bow on his bow and quiver of arrows on his shoulder hesitantly, and his father grabbed a short axe.

“Dangerous folk live in many parts of the woods, I know,” Pevari said, scratching the gray hair on his scruffy chin. “No use in not going prepared.”

Vajunt was thirty years old, and his father thirty-five years older. Pevari had not lived on the borders of Kimron as Vajunt had. The old man had come to visit Vajunt’s house, only to find his son out of his mind with fear for his daughter. Ekeska had vanished while at play in the shadows of Kimron. Vajunt had not allowed her to play there, but her curiosity had gotten the better of her. While Vajunt was hunting, she and one of her friends had gone down to near the forest and Ekeska had decided to go in. Her friend, a young girl who lived near here, had objected and Ekeska ran in without her. Vajunt, meanwhile, had encountered his father while out trapping. This meeting had caused Vajunt’s walk home to be slower then usual. When they reached their home, Ekeska’s friend had told them everything. Ekeska had already been inside the Kimron for seven hours, at that point.

“Come on then,” Pevari said, standing up and stomping out the door into the fading sunlight.

Vajunt hurried after him.

It was late afternoon. The sky was red, peeking through the leaves of the thin group of trees surrounding Vajunt’s lonely house. There were few villages on this border and no towns; most people lived on their own or in small clusters, looking after their own affairs. No one talked readily with strangers. All went about armed and on their guard. Here there was a great deal of superstition about the forest, and a great deal of truth. Everyone knew it was fact that wild animals and dangerous folk from all the races of the world lived in the woods. What was less certain was the spirit said to rule there, the demon of the dark lord Dowails that had haunted the place and ruled it as his kingdom since before the large continent Diwonderion had ever been inhabited.