Journey to the Forest
By Eve Hathaway
Published by Publications Circulations LLC.
SmashWords Edition
All contents copyright (C) 2013 by Publications Circulations LLC. All rights reserved. No part of this document or the related files may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, by any means (electronic, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, companies and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher.
~ ~ ~ ~
Prologue
"PLEASE, you can't die..."
Madala was a large island country, covered in mountains, plains, and forests. To walk from the southern to the northern point takes approximately two weeks without stopping to rest. There are several cities along the southern coast where the shoreline offers opportunity for trade. Other cities and small towns are scattered in the fields of the country's center, rich in agriculture. To the north, cliffs line the ocean, making it almost impenetrable to attacks from invaders. The Forest of the north spans a little under a hundred miles, hiding various abandoned castles that had been left in the early centuries of the land.
Over time, witches had been driven off by the invading humans and civil wars raged. The witches fled to the Forest where they could practice their dark magic in peace.
It was not uncommon to stumble upon magic in the land of Madala. Magical artifacts and creatures were sold in the markets. Those who have or practice magic could be anyone from street performers to politicians. Magical energy flowed almost like a river from the depths of the Madalan Forest where its source was the creatures that have rested for countless centuries even before the time of humans.
To help the inhabitants of Madala who had come to the island country to better understand magic, three books were created by the ancient witches who had long since disappeared. The more common of thinkers referred to these books as the Book of Birth, the Book of Life, and the Book of Death.
Throughout the centuries, all but one of these books left the island country as they were passed back and forth between the hands of sorcerers, warriors, and kings by war's end. The remaining book, the Book of Life, remained safely in the hands of a young witch by the name of Abrielle.
The witch had come to the country of Madala as a human and had taken an apprenticeship with an ancient sorceress. She received the Book from the sorceress to guard and learn from. To gain immortality, a dragon had come to her and agreed to share his soul with her in exchange for her love.
She contained the proof of their bond in a small stone which she kept at her breast. There it shone a brilliant red, beating in time with her heart. It bound him to her for the rest of their lives as described in the ancient Book and allowed her use of his magic after years of companionship. They spent the centuries together. While she kept his soul and shared his magic, the dragon remained in the form of a human to stay as close to her as he could. Abrielle studied in the Book each day, learning more and more about the secrets of life.
To keep the Book safe, the witch Abrielle remained in the very northern point of Madala, nestled in the Forest where blizzards and dangerous creatures would deter anyone from finding her or her beloved.
All except those who were most determined.
Blood stained the man's fingers as he tries to cover the wound on his love's chest. The light of colored stone of crimson at Abrielle's breast flickered dimly. The witch's pulse slowed and the final breath of life slipped from her lips.
The humans had somehow made their way to the northern castle and had fired their bows at the witch. The man roared to the sky. Why hadn't he been there? Rage flashed in his red eyes and he let her fall gently to the snow frosted stone. With another roar, leather wings burst from his back and his body contorted and grew. In his place stood a giant dragon, his scales as red as the fallen blood. He spread his terrible wings and took off into the sky, searching for those who had murdered his love.
Trees burned into ash and the flames licked at the singed ground. The bodies of the hunters were reduced to nothing and smoke filled the sky so that nothing could be seen. They never had the chance to see the dragon coming before they were burned.
The witch had lived for countless years, so why had she been destroyed by a single shot of an arrow was a mystery. She may have not aged but in the end, she was still human. She was still mortal. She could die just as easily as any other.
The dragon flew back to the castle, snow and smoke burning his eyes as he crashed to the stone balcony over the sea raging a hundred feet below. Her body was still there, eyelashes flecked with ice. Her red-brown hair blew around her face in the gust from the dragon's wings. Her lips, once tinted pink and always pulled back into a smile were now tinted blue with no hint of life behind them. The book was open beside her, pages flipping in the wind.
The dragon curled its claws around the Book, piercing the tome. The secrets of life had been completely useless. No matter how much she had learned, the witch had been helpless against man. She had given the humans the secrets of sharing the souls of magical creatures, allowing them to extend their own power in what they referred to as "Soulytes."
But they had shown no gratitude-or maybe they had just forgotten over the centuries-and had sent out their hunters to destroy the witches of the Forest.
The book shuddered in his grasp, a strange energy pouring from it as his claws dug deeper and deeper. He released his grip and darkness pooled from the bores, soaking the snow in inky black. The life was draining from it, spreading its very death into the snow and stone and trees, staining everything the deepest black.
The dragon tossed the book aside, where the falling snow turned black upon touch. He curled around the witch, his enormous body keeping her body warm with his inner fire. He watched as the black crept to the Forest and soon everything he could see was engulfed in darkness.