Chapter 5
Upon entering the cabin, the smell of mildew immediately penetrated my nostrils, so strongly that I suppressed a gag. The cabin was quite simple, one small room with a single cot in the corner, a stone fireplace, a wooden chair, and a small dresser with a couple of drawers. I limp carefully over to the dresser, squinting in the darkness to see the few objects that sit atop it- An empty canteen, a small hunting knife, a dirty pot, and some flint. I pick up the dirty pot, inspecting the crusted, soot-black, substance that lines the bottom of it. The putrid smell overtook the mildew, causing my hand to fly up over my nose. Placing the pot and parchment down, I hobble out the front door, staring out at the dark forest now surrounding me. I slowly walk the perimeter of the cabin, trailing my fingers along the splintered wood. As I get to the rear of the shack, my leg bumps into something, and I reach down with my hand to find myself gripping the smooth wooden handle of a small axe.
Thank God.
As I round the front of the cabin, there's a rustle in the bushes, followed by a rapid scuttling of limbs racing my way. There's wet and laboured breathing getting louder and louder, closing in towards me. Shock runs through my system as I bound towards the front door, I throw the axe haphazardly in an attempt of distraction before practically knocking myself out against the door as I slam it shut behind me. I scramble for the chair, shoving it against the door and then backing myself into the dark corner beside the fireplace. The thrum in my temples becomes overbearing as I place both my hands flat against the floor, trying to ground myself. The rustling and pounding from outside subsides, and now all I can hear are the sounds of the night. The chirps and caws of what sound recognizable, but not known. I grind my forehead against my knees to ease the pressure.
What the hell?
The thought of sleeping at this moment makes my stomach turn. My nail rips against my tongue as I pull part of it from the nail bed. An old habit I hadn't fallen back to in a long, long time. I sit on the ground for a while, letting time escape me as I just stare into the darkness. The air is now frigid, the bed only having a brown, lumpy pillow and small cotton blanket atop it. I crawl over, trying to remain as quiet as possible, before lifting myself onto the bed. I place the pillow under my sore leg and lie flat on my back, staring at the ceiling. My body flinches when I hear the sound of nails being dragged along the exterior side of the wooden shack. My Breath gets caught in my throat as all I can do is listen and lie motionless. Though I am not a religious woman, I pray. I pray to whoever will listen, for my safety. I pray that whatever is out there remains on the other side of the walls, and I pray that I'll wake up and find myself back in my bed, staring at the open windows that overlook my front lawn.
—
I wake to the sounds of chirping from the canopy and the leaves bristling from the breeze. I can feel my leg, fat and swollen beneath me. Coming to the realization that I had no food or water wasn't exactly how I was hoping my morning would go, but there I was. I had no time to sit there and naively hope that I would be fine. I needed water, and I needed food. I needed to clean out the open sores on my calf. I grab the knife, canteen, and parchment before peering out the door. After several minutes of quiet and calm, I step out. The dense foliage of the island made me uneasy, I marked trees with my knife as I waded through the waist high grass. My spine quickly becomes slick with sweat, a stark contrast to the shivering I was doing throughout the night. The humidity hung over me like a weighted blanket. A strange call echoed through the trees, heightening my sense of isolation. Under different circumstances, I would probably consider this tranquil, but the peacefulness of it was eerie, in a deeply unsettling way. I see large footprints, likely King Taro. Even his unwillingness to use my name felt condescending.
"Eve.Hm. That will not do… Dahlia. Have you ever gazed upon a pompom Dahlia?"
"Have you ever gazed upon…"
Shut up
As I leave another small mark on one of the trees, my toes begin to squish within my shoes. Surveying the area ahead, I see a small clearing and note the sound of running water. The stream is so small it looks like a vein on this planet of an island, but I dip my canteen into it anyway, not caring about the bits of dirt and soil that pass through the mouthpiece. I bring the canteen up, the steel cooling against my chapped lips. Drinking the dregs of my canteen, I glance around as I struggle to catch my breath. As much as this island resembles home, and I can recognize what are trees, bushes, and flowers, they simply can't be.
The vegetation looks entirely otherworldly, the gnarled roots delving deep into the earth like veins of some primordial being. The trunks and branches twisting high into the sky, some of the bark looking like mosaics of iridescent colours, casting a reflective, rainbow-like shimmer against the forest floor. I re-fill my canteen one more time before slowly following my marked path back to the shack. My guess would be that it was still fairly early in the morning, but without an actual clock and using nothing other than guess work, I couldn't be sure.
I glanced down at my leg, and the dried blood that crusted along my calf. This needed to be cleaned, fast. Given the piercings that riddled my body, my first thought is finding the sea. Perhaps the salt water would ease the burning sensation I felt with each step. I touch my fingers gently to my nose, fiddling with the ring, remembering the constant cleaning and upkeep while the skin had healed. It would be a nightmare here. With the canteen still in my hand, and the knife and parchment stuffed into my shorts pocket, I began walking north, noting all the moss climbing the roots of the large trees. That was something I had read years ago from a book I loaned in the library, moss grows to the north. Why? I had no idea. I couldn't be bothered to care, as long as it was a survival aid that helped me… well, survive.
I tried to note anything I would recognize from the day prior, but came up short. A loud call stopped me in my tracks, the shrill sound almost deafening to the ears. I glance up to see a large bird-like creature soaring underneath the long, flayed branches. It gracefully glided along under the outstretched trees before perching along a lower branch, easily as thick as my leg, to support its weight. The body is slender and elongated, covered in long, thick light grey plumage that seemed to absorb the sun's light. The bird chortled and swivelled its head, staring at me for a moment. Its beak held many, small razor-sharp teeth. We inspect each other for a heartbeat. The bird's feathers bristle as it cocks its head to the side, a gesture of avian inquisitiveness. Its beady eyes study me intensely, assessing me. There's uncanny intelligence in those dark eyes, and I hold its stare. It softens its posture, turning its head away, and bombs off the branch before spreading its wings, gliding off between the tall trees that surround us.
I walk towards the direction that the bird flew, putting little cross-hatches in the trees to ensure I don't get lost. As I walk, I find myself on somewhat of an open path, just barely noticeable. The flowers and grass already trampled under my feet. As I walk along the path, I notice that the moss is littered with little light blue sections, similar to the moss that I noticed yesterday, directly by the beach. I pick up my pace, trying to ignore the pain in my leg. Eventually I hear it, waves crashing against the shore. Hustling to the edge of the forest, I sit on the ground, enjoying the shade. There's a small stick to my left, poking out of the sand, so I grab it and shove it between my teeth, then glide my knife from my pocket.
Adjusting my shorts as I sit, I use some of the canteen water to clear off the dirt and blood that has coagulated along my leg. I brace myself as I begin to dig the embedded shards of crystal out from beneath my skin. My teeth clench against the wood as I try not to cry out at the pain.
This is going to be a long day.
—
I dig my back against the earth, creating a divot where the sand turns to dirt-perfect as a small seat. Sweat dripped down my temples, drops working into the corners of my eyes, hands bloodied and trembling. Never in my life have I experienced pain like that. Not physically anyway. I lay there and let my body return to normal, let the adrenaline leek out from my fingers as I shut my eyes for a while.
After basking in the shade, I shakily stand and work my way down to the water, carefully removing my shoes and socks, placing them far enough away that they could dry up against the hot sun. A groan slips out of me as my toes sink into the hot sand, a relief after being stuck in wet shoes. I wade into the water, stopping just before my shorts can get wet and let the sea pick at my wounds. There's a minimal burning sensation, but I ignore it. I stand there for a few minutes before walking back to shore, not wanting to come across anything that lurks in these shallow waters.
Sitting back down in the shade, I leave my shoes and socks to dry for a few more minutes while I remove my shirt, tying it as tightly as I can around my swollen calf. With the waves lapping up the beach and the cool breeze cutting through the humidity, this would be a serene place for a vacation. If you ignore the potentially dangerous creatures that prowl merely feet away. I continue to stare out at the water, wondering about my mother, about Maya. I wondered if they'd noticed I was missing, or if perhaps King Taro was telling the truth, and they had no idea I was even gone. The last thing I wanted was for them to worry.
My neck pops as I stretch, pulling the crumpled parchment from my pocket. Unfolding it, I flatten out the crinkles against my leg before holding it up to read:
The Rules of King Taro's Island.
Remain indoors after nightfallAttend the nightly feast, (Refusal may lead to a dire fate.)Do not stray from the golden path unless you wish to meet the twisted creatures of the forestAvoid the abandoned village on the eastern shores, there is a reason it remains uninhabitedBeware of the seas siren songDo not believe closed lidsAbove all else, never forget that you are but a guest upon this ancient island, and its secrets are not yours to discover
I reread #5, glancing back out at the gentle waves that kiss the sand. A shiver runs through me. The growling of my stomach can be heard over the sounds of the sea, tearing my focus away from my leg. I grab my now dried socks and shoes, pulling them over my sandy feet. The sun is on the western side, potentially around mid-afternoon, give or take a couple of hours, due to my lack of accuracy. Glancing at the parchment one last time, I decide that perhaps it's time to make my way towards the castle, to ensure I don't miss the feast that is supposedly served in the evenings. I would much rather be early and wait around, than miss it entirely and go another day without food. Heat begins to swell in my leg, and I look down to see red dots starting to coat the fabric. But, determined not to miss the opportunity for sustenance, I begin my trek towards the castle. The landscape seems to transform around me as I walk, however slowly. The salty tang of the sea diminishes as I get further and further away from the beach. Despite the uncertainty that gnaws at me, and the discomfort in my leg, I press on.
–
After multiple breaks to rest my leg and drink the last of my water, I see the ascension that King Taro led me up previously. The terrain becomes more rugged, and I often need to use my hands to clear larger steps upwards. The roots threaten to trip me with every step I take. Hopefully this is a walk that becomes easier the more I do it, for this path is making it very difficult for me to manoeuvre swiftly, and I doubt it's just my injured leg to blame. My mouth begins to water at the thought of food, my stomach clenching, from discomfort or hunger, I'm not sure. I imagine the dining room, filled with lit candles and the table laden with sumptuous dishes, the aromas wafting throughout the entire castle.
What I would give for a blueberry scone right about now.
There were multiple chairs surrounding the table, meaning that there could potentially be more people than just King Taro and I, though I had seen no signs of life other than the bird and whatever went thump in the night. I stop at the entrance to the castle, taking a deep breath before pushing open the doors.