Trees weren’t something Kuval had ever been accustomed to. They were strange things to him, growing so solidly out of the land. When he first saw one, he thought about trying to climb to the top of it, to survey, as he’d often dreamt of doing from a mountaintop so long ago. They were curious, beautiful things. So full of life, so lush with power.
But these… these were not the trees he’d come to love. From the moment he’d stepped into the forest, he’d felt their power, their pain, beating down on him heavily. They might as well have been lain across his shoulders for all their weight. The chill that washed over him was near unbearable and he knew it wasn’t the endless night that caused it…
As he traveled deeper, drawn in by curiosity and the allure of treasure within, he began to notice the faces. He’d been told about them, long ago. He’d been warned about their agony, their lovers agony, the limitless, endless pool of it that swam between the trees… Yet still, he couldn’t have prepare himself for what it was actually like.
Deeper still he went, looking at each. It wasn’t long before the silence began to get the better of him and words sprang from between his lips. It started simply: “I can’t imagine your pain…”
He thought about what it must have been like for them. How hard it was for their loves to come and find them twisted into the bark of the very thing they’d fought against. He equated it to his own death in a fire or a desert… but even that wasn’t doing it proper justice, really. He hadn’t fought those things, so much as avoided them at all costs.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” he said, resting his hand against the cool side of one of the trees. He avoided the face on this one, unable to handle the sorrow locked forever in those dead eyes. Still, he wasn’t sure which he was talking to. The man, the tree. The circle of pain seemed endless, each taking down the other. Neither seemed willing to leave peacefully with the other. The gods with their plagues, the people with their weapons. There was no ease, no softness left between them. Only death… and even in death, neither seemed to have let go.
His hand slipped down the trunk and off as he continued on, trying his best to ignore the flicks of light that came and went quickly. As he walked on, he opened one of his canteens and drank deeply of it. The water helped with the cracks and cuts that coated his throat, spreading through to his skin. It almost seemed fitting to let it rest, let the pain linger within as it surrounded without.
With the canteen stored once more, Kuval continued forward. He wondered then, if there was anyone who would have done this for him. Was there anyone who felt so deeply for him that they’d venture into war? Or, worse yet, end their own lives at the loss of his? Truly, did anyone love him in such a way?
He knew the answer to this, of course. He’d been alone for a long while and it seemed longer still was to come. That surely wasn’t the treasure he hoped to find within these woods. No, that would be another day… but it was a simple distraction from all that surrounded him.
Maybe it would be best to leave, he thought. Maybe he should go and return when he had someone. Not a companion of that kind, of course. That seemed like it was asking for trouble, fanning the flames to those in constant torture around him. Just… someone. A friend, perhaps. Someone who could watch over him as he would them. Someone to make sure he didn’t foolishly follow the lights…
“I can’t imagine your pain…” He spoke again, retreating once more from the darkness. The trek couldn’t have been more than an hour in and it should be no more than an hour out. He wished he could help them in some way, but he’d never think himself so grandiose of being able to accomplish that.
“I have nothing to offer you,” he told them, “Nothing worthy of your attention… I would sing for you…”
And that was all he had, he knew. He’d done much with his voice in the past and now, dry as his throat may be, he decided to do so as he went. It may attract some, he knew, but it was something he felt he had to do. From the forgotten pockets of his mind, he conjured up a song he’d learned so long ago. A song of mourning. A song for the lost.
In hushed tones, he began to sing:
“The ocean behind you,
the ocean beside
The ocean forgive you
for all that you hide
Within it you began
within it you end
around us all it remains
without you, my friend
May the cool of it ease you
may the darkness be of peace
And within the sleep of death
may all your pain now cease…”
