The Forbidden Pool

Days of travel through land Mikel knew nothing of, nothing of except that the land he was in certainly was not in the vicinity of the town he had left; as all good townsmen and hunters he knew the land for nearly a week around as well as he did the streets he walked daily. Strange trees grew tall and thick, packed so tightly together he thought it impossible for them all still to live. All around the world was dark for the canopy above was so thick not the tiniest shaft of light could pass. In the darkness he stumbled often, tripping on the roots that nearly made the ground, and walked into trees. By his reckoning there was no more than a few feet between each tree, no more at best, and choosing the path he was able to squeeze through was the only trail he followed. A light could have made all the difference, he thought- he often thought now, ever since the last time speaking had cracked the skin at the edges of his mouth and caused bleeding from near a dozen small cuts across his face- and might indeed show a path to be followed.

So continued his time for two more sleepings, for within total darkness day and night mean little more than when one rises and when one puts to bed. It was uncomfortable for certain, with nothing on which to sleep and the ground so unleveled, but the pain of sleep did at least take away the pain of starvation and thirst.

And so it was that, some unknown time after Mikel lost consciousness inside the hut of the witch only to wake in a land he was completely unfamiliar with, the horror that he had become broke free of darkness to see in the distance signs of dwellings. Blood was in his eyes, blood from the cuts above his eyelids, and so he was unsure at first whether or not the place ahead was a village, but the thought gave him more hope than a return to light could in itself. Staggering forward with renewed strength, feeling the dried patches of blood on his clothes dampen once more with increased bleeding, Mikel approached the village.

A scream came from his right, and he turned towards the sound. A woman screamed, dropping the wet clothing in her arms as she shrieked and pointed at him. The screams continued unabated as the sound of men rushing to aid rose. Looking at his hands questioningly, Mikel realized that he must indeed look a monster if the heavily failing skin before his very eyes was a clue. Shambling as fast as his dying legs could carry him, Mikel rushed back to the forest, looking for the sight of all the blood more the monster than ever.

* * *

Mikel didn't go too far into the woods, the humans didn't give chase long at all into the dark domain. For a long time he cried, the tears feeling oh so nice, salty tears moisturizing a desert of skin and carrying the flakes to his mouth drier than any skin. Even knowing that the tears contained his flesh Mikel refused to let them go.

When darkness settled over the land, he shuffled back to the fields hoping his earlier appearance did not raise an alarm and a watch. In the darkness he concealed himself, walking slowly and hunched deeply in hopes of being mistaken for an animal if indeed he was seen at all. In this manner Mikel reached a farmhouse, dark for the night without even smoke rising from the chimney. On a line hung some clothing and sheets, and feeling ill for the thievery Mikel stole one of the latter.