Winter to Spring

A Chapter by Forest

She dances with him, like two lovers lost in the excitement and passion of a first time. Turning, twirling, their bodies intertwined in the new moons light. Watching them one would think they were a new found love when really this dance has been going on since the start of the seasons.

Her golden hair flows down her back with a crown of flowers upon her head, her violet eyes watching her lover with innocence and grace. His stag crown is surrounded by thick dark locks that curl near his strong shoulders. As they dance together, their faces draw near. They’re drawn to each other as a moth is drawn to a flame, with a deep rooted need that will never be removed. She reaches for him and they embrace, sharing a lovers first kiss.

All around them the ground bursts to life. Green appears on what was dormant and brown and flowers bloom revealing a fragile beauty. Finally the wait is over. With joining of the Maiden and the Green Man, Spring has come.

“My love,” he murmurs against her skin, “how I have missed you. And how beautiful you are, more beautiful than before.” The Maiden held onto her lover tighter, knowing that in months he will be lost again.

Together they begin to walk through the forest hand in hand. With every step, green appears around their feet. They come to a clearing where winter’s grip is still tight, desperate to remain. The Green Man holds his love to his side, as the enter the space. Suddenly, he picks her up and spins her around by her waist while a laugh the sound of the sweetest music escapes her rose colored lips. As he spins her the still of winter fades away and is replaced by the sound of animals in the brush and birds in the trees. Her laugh brings the warmth of the sun to melt the last of the seasons icy grip and the clearing resonates with life once more.

Far away from the lovers, another sits on his throne. The air is chilled by his presence, his breath showing as he sits nervously on the high backed chair made of oak that is crawling with holly. The king was of small frame, with raven hair and dark eyes. His skin was winter white with the veins visible in his arms. His face shows his age, constant anger and frustration etched across his features, his mouth taunt in an uneasy line. He has dreaded this day, the same as he has since the season’s began. The day his brother comes.

And like a knight free from captivity, his brother arrives. The honey colored hair, tanned skin, and bright eyes of his brother appear. His broad shoulders fill the entryway to the grove that serves as their throne room. Stepping into the clearing, the two see each other clearly for the first time in months.

“Father has not been kind to you, brother.” The knightly man says, with a voice rich and deep that fills the grove with a reassuring warmth.

“And you would know brother, since He has always favored the summer.” the king replied from the throne, the iciness in his voice battling with the sudden warmth.

The knightly man walked towards his brother, and as he walked closer the holy encasing the oak throne began to wither. The king could feel the power his brother held, how it was always stronger than his, how it was engulfing and dominating of everything around it.

“Brother, I do not enjoy this as you may think. It pains me to see you suffer so at my own being. There is no joy for me in the turn of the wheel.”

The king looked at his brother's face and saw the sincerity he spoke with, and it enraged him. His knuckles were white from the grip he had on the throne as he spat out, “ You dare speak to me as if you don’t dream of this day! That you don’t dream of the green in your sleep and wish to see the darkness leave and light return.”

The knightly man continued forward until he was face to face with his brother. Close enough to see the anger and resentment, the pain and confusion as to why their life had to be this way. He couldn’t blame his brother for how he was feeling. Since they were born he had been celebrated over him. People sang and feasted for him while they cursed and cowered from his brother. There wasn’t anything he could do to change their roles, but his brother refused to accept it. Then, the knightly man reached out for his brother as if to embrace him.

“No!”, the king screeched, “I am the king! There will be a day, brother, when you do not hold this power over me. I will find a way, and it will be the end of you!” The knightly man embraced his brother and whispered,

“I love you, brother.”

He held him until the change occurred, the holly died and the oak returned. Holding his brother, he fell to his knees and wept over the still body of the former king. It was not until the forest came to take him away from his slumber that the knightly man arose. Slowy, he stood and stared at the throne that was now gleaming light oak. No traces of his brothers reign remained, the holy having been pushed back by the start of the Spring.

The man turned to face the grove to see the forest watching, waiting. Waiting for him to sit and resume the course of the world. The man turned and sat on his throne, that had remained unchanged throughout time. And with this, it was complete. The seasons had changed, light had conquered, and the Oak King had returned.

David had moved to the city with his mom when he was fourteen. After his dad had died, she had taken a better paying job at a hospital and moved them from his childhood cabin to their two bedroom apartment that was barely big enough for them both. Three years here and he still was having problems with city life. Before they had moved, when his dad was still alive they would go exploring in the woods their cabin sat on. He would explain to David every tree, track, and animal that they came across. He grew up loving the forest, respecting it, finding refuge in it just as his father had.

Living here, the concrete and noise replaced the wilderness. Still, David tried to make the best of it. He worked for a local nature center that ran a weekend program taking urban youths on hikes. It wasn’t the same as back home, but seeing the looks on the faces of the kids as they experience the forest makes it worth it. He hoped one day that they would grow to love it as he has.

Walking home from school one afternoon David’s phone buzzed. It was a text from his mom. ‘Working late again, not enough staff. You’re on your own for dinner. I love you.’ it read. He sighed. This was the third time this week he had received this same message from her. She hates it here, hated it at the cabin after dad died, but here was better than being surrounded by his woods she had thought. She buries herself in her work so she can cope through the pain Davide knew, but he missed his mother. He was still dealing with dad’s death too, and at times wanted the comfort of his mom.

His life was pretty typical. School, work on the weekends, home. He hadn’t made a lot of friends here, but those he had he only really saw in class. It didn’t bother him though. His escape was the woods and they wouldn’t understand.

Opening the fridge in their small apartment, David found the same thing he found last week - nothing. He opened the freezer and pulled out a frozen pizza and turned on the oven. Being the responsible one in the family took its toll on him, and tonight it caused him frustration.

Thirty minutes later, pizza in hand, he plopped down on the couch and turned the television. The center was closed this time of the evening and he could use some mind numbing chuckles. Reruns of a familiar sitcom played while he ate his meal. They continued to play as he nodded off on the couch.

Three A.M. his mom walks in from the hospital, waking him from his sleeping spot on the couch. She doesn’t seem to notice him as she walks zombie like through her motions: lock the door, remove the shoes, make a sandwich, get a drink. She’s leaning over the kitchen sink when David clears his throat.

“Oh!” she says surprised, almost dropping her drink. “Why are you awake, you should be in bed. You don’t want to be tired for school tomorrow.”

“It’s Saturday, mom.”

“Is it?” she sighs as she looks into her glass. She was wishing the water would turn to wine. She had promised herself she wouldn’t fall into the bottle when David’s dad had died. She had promised that to protect him. An absent mother was bad enough, an alcoholic and absent one would be to much.

“Mom, you should go to bed. I’ll clean up here don’t worry”.

After his mother disappeared into her room, David laid back down on the couch thinking about the year to come. What was she going to do when he left for college? Was she going to be alright by herself? They hadn’t talked about it yet, but time was running down until his senior year was over. Making himself get up, he went to clean up the half made sandwich his mother had given up on. Placing the dishes in the sink, he turned and headed to bed himself.

© 2016 Forest

My Review

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Featured Review

Zoli Fern

Forest,
What a beginning! I was immediately intrigued by the story. Your descriptions of the seasons as people is beautiful, wonderful. I want to know more about them, see more about who they are and what their relations are with each other.
I was completely caught off guard by the entrance of David and his life, though not in a bad way. I am interested to know where these two threads meet up. Is this a long book?
My biggest pointer is to watch out for small grammatical things. In particular, there needs to be commas after prepositional phrases that begin a sentence. Cleaning things up like this will make it easier for the reader to dig into the story. A good source for this is "The Elements of Style" by Strunk and White.
That being said, it seems like you have a great handle on storytelling, and your prose is enjoyable to read. Thanks so much for sharing! I look forward to reading more.