Chapter One: The Glade

An empty forest with lush green and beautiful flowers.

Lore of Lethargy

Payton Smith

Chapter One

 

            Marcus felt around him to find he was surrounded by grass, flowers, and other assortments of plants. He moved his hands towards his chest and pushed himself up. His long, brown hair was draped over his face and he looked at the ground below him. There was matted grass, where he laid, below him and a single, crushed flower. His right knee moved up to support him, and then soon joined by his other. As he lifted his head up to look at where he was an amazing sight rushed to meet his eyes.

            Great, massive trees were the environment around him. The ground was covered in a lustrous green grass and patches of moss sprung up, usually close to the trees. Sunlight peaked through only small holes in the canopy. There was but only one thing wrong and that was what was going through Marcus’ eardrums…nothing.

            A sigh came from his lips as he rose to his feet. Where am I? He thought as he searched the forest floor, sky, and around trunks for any sign of life. The last thing he could remember was dinner with his family and then finishing his history homework. The wood was a little wet when Marcus sat down upon a root that had grown tall enough out of the ground to almost seem like a medium sized bush. While scratching his chin, a noise came from the forest in front of him. A vibrant tune he had heard before, a flute.

            Its high tone seemed perfect to Marcus’ ears, whoever the creator of the lustrous tune was an experienced musician. There was one thing different about this flutist than the sibling he grew up with, it was that the sound seemed somewhat duller as if not blown through metal.

            A movement came from behind a tree and Marcus’ quick look revealed the artist of sound. A strange looking, small man with a straw hat and a bandana over his face just to the bottom of his eyes held the origin of song, a wooden flute. The man’s face where it was not covered seemed as though a shadow, like he had no flesh skin. Red, green and blue zigzag pattern stitched, his poncho covered his chest to his knees. He had baggy, dark green pants to warm his legs and curled reed shoes.

            “Hey you,” Marcus spoke loudly to address the man, “Where is this place?”

            The flute went silent and the man’s very cheery voice sprung from under the bandana, “Why, you don’t know where we are? It’s really a simple question to answer; most people around here just call it The Planes. For further detail of our location we are in The Glade at the moment.”

            “So which one is it, The Planes or The Glade?” Marcus asked and scratched his head.

            “Both. The Planes is every plane categorized in one spectrum, different planes are the homes holding many people,” The man said.

            “Well that sounds just great,” Marcus said and curled his lips. “Are you sane, Sir?”

            “Quite so. How about you?” his voice dropped to a deeper tone.

            “Ok, so its just The Planes, got it,” Marcus’ reply came forth, “How did I get her then, no real such place called The Planes, am I dead? Is this the afterlife? I remember dinner with mom and dad, and then that’s all.”

            “No, no you’re very much alive,” said the man, “Call me Shaman, most people do, though I go by a few things.”

            “Shaman, names Marcus,” Marcus said and met the man’s hand in a shake. “Now how do I find out where I am? Better yet how do I get back?

            “You seem much calmer than expected. The Planes as answered before. Best of yet, I have no such idea but I’m sure you could find someone here in all The Planes who’d be able to answer. Oh, and welcome,” the shaman said and danced in a circle and began playing the flute once more.

            As the music reached Marcus’ ears the shaman started turning and walking off in a jolly motion, dancing his feet. Marcus’ looked at the shaman’s back and stitched in the poncho was a strange symbol opened eye and a closed eye. While trying to figure out what it meant, Marcus turned his back to the Shaman and started walking in the opposite direction.

            “Now, that’s quite strange of you,” the shaman’s voice came from behind Marcus, “I expected that you would follow me, being as you know nothing of your whereabouts. Great, great what are we going do with you. Well I could show you around if you’d like?”

            “Oh, not to be mean or anything, but you seem a little knocked off the average sanity level,” Marcus said and looked the shaman deep in his eyes.

            “There’s no level, we just call it freedom here,” the shaman said with a chuckle.

            “Fine, Mister Shaman,” said Marcus as he took a step left, “but I get to choose which direction we head.”

            “Amazing agreement, lad,” the shaman said and the bandana stretched up as a massive smile showed underneath it.

            As they walked the flute was played sweetly and the shaman danced with each step he took. The forest seemed as if it went on forever. No sounds but the sound from the flute. There was no life to be found anywhere. Marcus thought as if this was the afterlife. The more he thought of the more he seemed positive. He looked at the shaman, his eyes were closed. How could he see where he was going?

            “So I have a question for you,” Marcus stated to the shaman and caused him to stop playing, “is this the heaven or the hell, or even the in-between.”

            “Well, in aspects of location this is the Glade,” the shaman replied.

            “I give up with you,” Marcus said, “if you’re my guardian angel then obviously I’m going to be lost forever.”

            The shaman stopped in his tracks and sprang his upper body closer to the ground. Marcus looked down at him and then around himself. Nothing was there, whether this was some sort of odd joke or the shaman was really afraid of something. The shaking that came from him was what worried Marcus. The shaman’s head turned quickly to the right and he pushed his finger tips deep into the soil. In a swift action, as quick as a blink of the eye, the shaman’s legs kicked his body in the direction he was looking and he began sprinting away.

            Marcus, in instinct, jolted off toward him. He jumped over logs and stumps and roots. Ducked under hanging vines. Side stepped every, single hole that was visible for him. Every time he looked forward it seemed he was losing speed on the shaman and he was getting further and further away. The running continued even after the shaman was completely out of sight and sound. Leaning against a tree, Marcus took in deep breaths of air and his chest expanded and compressed.

            “Just great,” Marcus said to himself, “Just great, how could I let him get away. Well two choices now.”

            Marcus’ choosing the first of two choices started walking off by himself. Walking for what  seemed like an hour and a half he finally stopped and fell to his knees. I’m not getting anywhere. He thought. Everything looks identical; I’ve passed that tree at least four times.

            He crawled over to the base of a tree and sat himself against it. Resting his head back he looked at the canopy of the forest and the small amounts of light peaking its way in. Slowly something moved across his wrist, the first thought that came to his mind was a snake. He remembered not to make any sudden movements and let it cross over him without scaring it, but it snapped and constricted around his wrist and a second one around his other. It a swift action whatever had grabbed him pulled his hand deep into the dirt to about his elbows.

            “You’re in our place at the moment young man,” a voice came from above him, “We let your kind walk through our place, but not stay. Never stay.”

            “Who’s place, I can’t see you only hear you!” Marcus shouted as he struggled to free himself from the earth, but was unsuccessful. “How did you do this to me?”

            “Simple, you sat in my reach,” the voice came again but no visible owner of it was to be seen anywhere, “We don’t like when people stay in our place.”

            “I am truly sorry,” Marcus’ argument came forth, “but I had no idea, there was no signs or warnings. I thought I was just lost in a forest with no one.”

            “A forest with no one?” the voice questioned. “Boy, were all here, all around you.”

            “Wait, the trees?” Marcus wondered.

            “The trees, the flowers, the moss, the fungi,” the voice replied. “We’re all here!”

            “Once again, I apologize,” Marcus said and again tried an attempt at freedom but with no such luck. “I really didn’t mean to do anything.”

            “Unfortunate for you,” the voice said angrily.

Author's Note

Tell me what you think and criticizes all you want, go nuts... Cause sometimes I feel like I'm going nuts when I write this... Enjoy!