To the north and down east there is a mountain range known as the Sawsip mountains. On the valley below, no matter where you are, you can see the mountains jutting up and looming. Northwest of the Sawsips is a large city, which the founders of named Dravos. Standing in the city center is an enormous black tower which contrasts sharply with the rest of the city. It looks out of place amongst the other buildings and homes because of its size along. It is 72 stories high, and takes up several city blocks. A huge forest is south of the Sawsips, in an enormous valley. Called the Namretaw Forest, but most people just refer to it as the Forest. Dark and lush, no one really enters the forest if they can avoid it. Most travelers stick to the roads that connect small villages throughout the valley. There are a few that live within the forest, but they are few and far between. Twenty miles southeast of Dravos is the first village, Lillium. It is the largest village, and those who choose to move onwards towards Haven often find themselves in Lilium. South of Lilium is another, much smaller village, and further south stands Haven. Haven is a village in size between Dravos and Lilium. It is right in the southernmost edge of the Sawsip mountains. There are several creeks and rivers that flow through the valley, the largest river flows down from the northern Sawsips and bisects the valley. This river is called the Banks River after an explorer named Josiah Banks. The majority of the story will take place within the Namretaw Forest and the surrounding area.
Ember is small in stature, barely standing at five feet. She is thin- this is caused by years of malnourishment. She was given enough food to survive and stay alive. She has long, straight black hair that nearly reaches her knees. She has never had a haircut. Whenever she could, she keeps it pulled back into a bun or ponytail and out of her eyes. Her the irises of her eyes are a dark green color- like the leaves of an oak tree. Ember’s face is thin, and her mouth is usually drawn into a tight line. She keeps her emotions deep within her, and this is most evident in her face and eyes.
She was running away- running from a nightmare. From the darkness that surrounded her and enveloped her. She didn’t know where she would go, or what she was truly running from. She had to get away. As far as she could go, until she could go no further. She had to get away, from him, that tower, and from herself. Alone and scared, she finds herself in a dark forest, where secrets are waiting to be revealed.
He stood, overlooking the battle below him. Sword was drawn, and he held it loosely at his side. He hated this, every second of it. He had never planned on attacking them. He didn’t want revenge; he didn’t want war. Then they brought the war to him. “Are you ready?” His best friend, Matthias, stands to his left, also watching the battle below. “I am never ready,” Eli replies. He turns to Matthias, and Matthias can see the sadness in Eli’s eyes. It has aged him, changed him. He can also see Eli’s resolute will. That has never changed, will never change. Eli turns and places one gloved hand on Matthias’ shoulder. “Let’s finish this,” he says. His voice is quiet and low. Matthias can hear the sadness, the exhaustion. They have been fighting in this stupid war for five years now. This stupid, needless war that no one really wanted. Matthias also hears the anger in Eli’s voice. It is subtle, barely noticeable, but there. Matthias had a family to return to. Eli didn’t. Not anymore. Not after what they did. The catalyst to the war. Even now, five years later, the grisly scene of Eli holding his dead wife and child still brings tears to his eyes. Eli begins to slowly descend the hill. The metallic clashing of metal on metal echoes in the valley, along with men screaming and dying. Each step he takes becomes heavier and heavier. I don’t want this he thinks to himself. I never wanted this. He is now in the fray. Nothing stands in his way. No one. He has one goal in mind, and he is determined to get to him. Soldiers fall before him or move away as he moves throughout the field until he stops. There he stands. Eli grits his teeth, his mouth forming a tight line. He watches two soldiers fight before him, one larger than the other and winning. The smaller soldier falls to the ground, yelling in pain. As the larger soldier raises his sword to give the death blow, Eli calls out. “James.” The large soldier stops his deadly swing in mid air and turns to Eli. All around him, soldiers stop fighting: Eli is here! Eli raises his sword and points it towards James. James grips his sword in his hand, holds it up in front of him, and smiles. “Hello, Eli,” he says. “How’s the wife and child? David, wasn’t that his name?” Eli’s eyes flash in anger. “It’s time to end this, James,” he replies. He gestures around with his sword. “End this. Now.” James raises both hands up and in turn gestures around him. “What, and end all the fun. You were always so serious, Eli,” he says. James then points his sword back to Eli. “You could have prevented all of this if you had just done what I had asked. Instead you chose to play the pacifist card. I did what I had to do to get you out of your stupor.” Eli looks around him at all the soldiers that now surround James and him. Hundreds of weary faces stare at him. He gives James a hard look. “I never wanted this. I never wanted war. But you brought this stupid war to me. I’m ending it, here and now,” he says. His voice is still quiet, but it carries. Everyone hears him. James sighs and begins moving towards Eli. “You can give it your best shot,” he says. “Say hello to Marie and David for me, won’t you?” Eli doesn’t respond, but he lets his sword to the talking. As both men’s swords clash, they ring out like a gong all across the field. The battle is fierce. Each time the swords clash together it produces a sound like thunder. Both men are covered in grime and blood and sweat, but they don’t stop. Finally, as the sun dips below the trees in the far off distance, James falls to the ground. His sword clatters to the ground beside him. He breaths are fast and shallow as he looks up at Eli. Eli stares down at James, pity in his eyes. But there is also anger. “Do it,” James says, his voice trembling from exhaustion. Eli continues to stare at James, then takes a deep breath, letting the air pass into his lungs and out again. “I will.”
[Don’t be afraid.] I stop dead in my tracks and look around. What was that? All around me is nothing but trees and the forest. I hear forest creatures all around me, moving about and doing their own thing, but that’s it. After a moment I move on. It’s a peaceful day, a wonderful day. I’m heading to my cabin for the weekend to reflect, unwind from the week, and maybe do some writing. I am almost to the first trailhead that I turn off of to head to my place when the same voice from before comes again. [Don’t be afraid, Jason.] I look around, wildly spinning around in place. No one is there. I open my mouth to tell off whatever teenager is playing mind games when the voice calls out again. [Please, don’t. They’ll hear you.] I close my mouth. What is going on? The voice answers again. [I am behind you and to your left. I can help as much as I can, but you have to trust me. Don’t speak out loud, I can hear your thoughts.] I nod my head, understanding but not fully comprehending. [Who is ‘they’? And who are you?] I ask. I’m very aware of where I am at the moment, so I begin moving. [They are coming for me, and they won’t stop until they have me,] the voice answers. [My name is Will. Jason, we have to get to your cabin. Is it far?] Immediately I get bits of memory and mental images of my cabin. Once I turn on this trail it’s only half a mile deeper into the forest. It occurs to me that Will should not know all of this about me, let alone know my name, when a single word flashes across my mind. Telepathy. [You can read minds?] I ask. […Yes.] the voice answers. Even if it’s not aloud, I can feel the sarcasm in that simple yes. [We need to move, Jason.] Of course. I turn off the main trail and start to make my way to the cabin. The voice doesn’t speak again until the cabin comes into view. [Excellent, Jason. Get inside, Quickly. They are almost upon us.] I half walk, half run to the front door, unlock it, and walk inside. I turn around, expecting to see someone behind me, but there is no one. [Are you sure this is not some trick my mind is playing on me? How do I know this is real?] I ask, suddenly feeling very foolish. [Look outside,] the voice replies. I obey, and I look out the window. Outside are three… men? They look like men, they look human, but something is off about them. I duck down below the window and watch them. They stop about fifty feet from the cabin, fanned out. All three are staring intently at the door. [They followed you here, have been trailing you since you got out of your car.] I inhale and exhale panic starting to rise. [Don’t be afraid,] the voice says. Then I feel a hand gently grab my shoulder. I look up into Will’s eyes. [Are you ready?] I nod, and three loud knocks split the silence.
January 23, 1997
It is 2:37 AM. I don’t think I’ll be going back to sleep for the rest of the morning. I’m shaking from head to toe, and I can barely hold my pen because of my hand shaking so bad. There is something in my house. I woke up not ten minutes ago, suddenly. You know that feeling you get where you feel like you are falling? That sudden jolt? I felt that, and when I woke up I had this uneasy feeling. Like something wasn’t right. As I stare at my ceiling, I could swear I see shapes swirling around in the dark. Almost like faces. I sit up and turn on my bedside lamp. The swirling shapes disappeared but the uneasy feeling remained. Thinking I had just had a nightmare I make my way in the dark to the kitchen to get a glass of water. When I enter the kitchen I stop dead in my tracks. There is something moving in the center of the dark kitchen. The same swirly shapes that was on my bedroom ceiling. It was like it was a small dark piece of cloud, moving in the darkness. I let out a quiet gasp and the shape instantly turns to me. I can make out two eyes, solid white in the dark, staring right at me. The shape moves forward, not more solid. I turn tail and run right back to my bedroom and lock the door behind me. I don’t know if the thing followed me or not. I’m not about to go find out. I’ll just stay here in the light and not turn around. What if it’s behind me?
I left 15 years ago and swore I would never come back. Now I find myself sitting in my car idling in the school parking lot. My hands grip the steering wheel, white knuckled and full of dread. It was well and fine two months ago when I accepted the invitation to come speak to the school. It seemed so far away at the time. As the days crept by I started to realize just what I’d agreed to do and anxiety set in. Now here I am, 15 minutes away and starting to panic. High school was not a fun time for me. I know high school was not a fun time for many people; in my opinion people who actually had fun in high school are sociopaths. A lot of bad stuff happened during the four years I attended this school. It started off horribly when he died, and it never got better. 10 minutes. Time seems to fly by when it’s least convenient and slow way down when you need it to fly by. Time is just funny that way I guess. I need to get out and go in but I’m stalling for time. It’s not a bad school. In fact most of the teachers here were really good teachers and kind. They offered me so much back then, but I didn’t take it. I didn’t accept their help. I was content with coasting by in misery. Back then, I felt like it was just because they pitied me. Now I see, too late, that what was perceived as pity was in fact kindness. What a fool I was then. 5 minutes. Time waits for no one. I’m walking up the steps, still lost in thought. The principal, Mrs. Williams, stands at the door, watching me. She is still as hawkish as she was 15 years ago. Nothing escaped her sight. “Welcome back, Mr. Brian,” she says as I stepped up the last step and approached her. I can only manage a small smile. Just like 15 years ago, I barely said anything. Back then I had nothing to say. Now it’s because of my nerves. She smiles back at me. “It’s so good to see you again,” she says as I enter the building. I clutch my notes in my hand as she leads me to the auditorium. As we walk the memories come rushing back and I find myself musing over them. They weren’t all bad. I found, or rather rediscovered my love for writing because of my senior English teacher. I wouldn’t be where I am today without her guidance. Three minutes. We enter the side door that leads to the stage. I can hear someone introducing me. I swallow the lump in my throat and Mrs. Williams hands me a bottle of water. “Take a deep breath, Mr. Brian,” she says. “It’s going to be okay. You are going to be okay.” I look over at her, can see the kindness and compassion that I so often mistook for pity and am comforted. I nod and smile at her. One minute. I can hear the speaker say my name and introduce me. It’s time. As I start to make my way to the stage I turn back one more time to Mrs. Williams. She is beaming. “Thank you,” I say, then turn back and walk onto the stage as the crowd applauds.
If they knew the truth, it would break them. Everyday I come to work with a smile. The kids love coming to my class. It’s high energy, engaging, and intense. The learning environment I have worked so hard to create is a place where students want to come in and work. They learn something new everyday. It’s also exhausting and a lie. My smile is false, my energy is a fabrication and a wall that I have created for my kids. To them, I am always positive and encouraging. Every second I am awake, I am bombarded by negative thoughts to the point that I get very little sleep. They don’t know that. They will never, can never, know that truth about me. My fellow teachers come to me for inspiration. The school principals love to bring campus guests to my class first in order to see my class in action. Always a smile, always a mask. This same mask, this facade, crumbles the minute I get in my car to go home. Sometimes, when I get a minute to myself, I allow the mask to come off, even if just for a second. The second someone comes in my room the mask comes back on. I’m so tired. Please don’t misunderstand, I love my job and I love my students to death. I just wish I loved myself the same way I love those kids. Sometimes I can feel the mask falling apart, and it takes everything I have to pull it together when they are in my room. I have to remain a positive for these kids, for so many come from worlds that are negative and harsh. I have to pretend, for their sakes. If not me, then who? Who will help them see that there is positives in this harsh and unforgiving world they have found themselves on. I’m a hypocrite, I know it, but it’s for the kids. I should get some help, I know. I probably won’t. I’m afraid of what will happen, what unholy thing will manifest when I speak the truth. Besides, it’s better this way, to suffer in silence. That’s not true, and I know it. Like I said, I’m a hypocrite. I don’t know any other way, and I’ve been going down this dark and horrible path for so long that I don’t even think there is another way. Besides, it’s for the kids.
Everything was prepared and ready. It would happen tonight at midnight. All day I have been on edge; it seemed as if all eyes were watching me. It was as if everyone knew, knew the dark deed I was plotting to attempt. Paranoia set in. I was found out! Day turned to night, and 11:30 finally arrived. I could feel my heart beating in my chest as I got everything ready. I followed the instructions to the letter. As it turns out, all you have to do is search ‘how to summon the devil’ and boom: thousands of articles and instructions will tell you how to do just that. You can find anything on the internet. It was time. I began the process, following the instructions I had printed out. I’d memorized it all, but I kept them printed out and in my hands in case I forgot the next step. I could feel my heart beating, faster and faster, excitement or fear I couldn’t tell which. Smoke, dark and billowy, filled the room. It smelled of bad eggs. Sulfur. In the clouds of smoke lightning flashed. Thunder echoed in the room, each crack causing me to jump in fear. More and more smoke filled the room until it was impossible to see. Still I pressed on, reciting the incantation over the thunderous din. One final mighty clap of thunder, and the smoke vanished. A bolt of lighting struck the center of the room and I was thrown back. Gingerly I stood up, then froze. Sitting at the kitchen table was…me. I watched my doppelgänger as it stared at me, studying me. I could feel its eyes bore into my soul, learning my deepest and darkest secrets. The doppelgänger motioned for me to come to the table, and I stiffly walked over, sitting opposite to where it was sitting. It matched me exactly, including the clothes. I wore black jeans and a black long sleeve shirt. So did it. The doppelgänger looked around, studying the room, then glanced at me “Do you have anything to eat?” It asked. It’s voice was soft, gentle, and it sounded just like me. I cleared my throat. “What would you like?” I asked. Despite my heart beating so fast i was afraid it would burst in my chest, I was not afraid. Something about the creature soothed me, put me at ease. The doppelgänger stood up and went to the kitchen. It started moving around as it prepared something to eat. It knew where everything was. “Would you like something?” It asked. I shook my head and murmured in the negative. The doppelgänger continued preparing its meal while I stared at the back of my own head, unable to really process what was going on. The doppelgänger returned to the table with a plate on which sat a pb&j sandwich, a glass of water, and a napkin. It sat down and began to eat. “You-“ I start, but stop when it glances up at me. “You’re the devil?” I ask. One last bite, and the doppelgänger leaned back in its chair, wiping away the crumbs with the napkin. It chuckled, bemused. “Yes,” it replied. Now I leaned back in my chair. The devil noticed. “Were you expecting a giant red beast with horns and cloven hooves?” He asked, chuckling. I just stare at him and he leans forward. “Why did you summon me?” “I wanted to ask something from you,” I reply. The devil says nothing so I take a deep breath and ask: “ I wanted to ask if you could-“ I trail off, suddenly finding myself tongue tied. “You wanted to ask if I would bring your father back,” the devil says. I nod and he stands up, going to the window. He stares out into the city, but I can see him looking at me through the window reflection. Watching me. “I have been around since before creation, and I have been summoned by evil men and women since you could speak. Countless times I have been asked for fame, fortune. Power. But this,” he turns to me. “This is a first.” The devil starts walking towards me, and as he walks towards me he starts to change, shifting into something else that both looks like me and doesn’t. “I can see into your soul. I know you. Yours is a pure soul, a desperate, lonely, sad soul. I can see it in your eyes, your sadness surrounds you, but you remain: you are a good person. I should not dare defile a soul such as yours.” I stare at him, this strange being that is shifting before my eyes. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “So you won’t do it?” I ask, crestfallen. Tears are starting to form as I look down at my hands, which shake. I hear something and then the devil is kneeling in front of me, lifting my chin up. I look into his eyes as he wipes a tear away. He looks sad. “I will, but only for a short time. Then he must come back.”
She always came back. It might be a few days, sometimes even a couple of weeks, but she always came back. I waited for her return; I knew she’d come back to me when the time was right. I am always so joyous to see her. I run to her, calling her name, and she always does the same. I don’t know if she has a home of her own, but it doesn’t matter. What matters to me is knowing she is safe. She is okay. I am alone in this world, but she is my sun. She is my friend. It’s nearly dark. The sun is disappearing, falling away below the horizon and painting the sky into a mosaic of pinks and blues. I didn’t expect to see her, and yet there she stands, watching me. She has something with her, a metal and plastic box. It sits beside her feet. Does she have someone new? A new friend? I start walking towards her. She calls out to me and I break into a run. I quickly closes the gap between us; she is so close I can reach out and touch her. Maybe today will be the day? I stop in front of her and look into her eyes. She bends down and gently picks me up, lifting me over her head. I stare into her eyes; they are green like mine. She stares into mine. Then, in a voice so soft and soothing, she asks: “Would you like to come home with me?” Pure bliss.
