The Forest's Heart

The patrol down in the Heartwood was flattening Soodan's soul. Day-after-day, camp-after-camp, wandering through the near edges of the tamed forest.


"The taps have been slow to give this year Sannang," "We need new chisels and axes, Sannang!" "Where is the mail, Sannang?"


He had loved coming out into the forest to hunt and compose his thoughts. "A Sannang is a guardian of the land, he keeps the inner light of Jaryong-bo alive in the heart of darkness". It was such a crock of shit. He was a tax collector for backwoods bumpkins and occasional courier for the Magi back in Chinseong.


Last night, while he was in that den of vipers, he was offered a deal. They had promised him twenty-thousand dinars per acorn taken from the Yoma tree. Anyone who spent enough time in the Heartwood learned to feel the voice of the forest. The great tree was affixed to Sudan's mind like a beacon signaling a ship in the night. It gave him a point to navigate by no matter where he was. So he cut through the forest, straight as an arrow through the constant rain and fog in the damp, mossy dimness. There he stood before the incomprehensibly massive tree, its roots sinking into the soil, its scattered seed dashed across the forest floor. He filled his pouch with the them and left.


Settling down to camp for the night he lay under a low overhang, wrapped in layers of fur blanket as the warm orange tang faded from the fog. The darkness coalesced, laying a blanket over all that had been there a moment before. In front of his eyes now was a black haze enveloping the world, cut through only by the faintest beams of moonlight.


He thought of the legends that told of ancient demons laying in wait among the trees, taking men to feed the soil. The forest was quiet, the air was still, he felt something was coming. Soodan rose from where he lay, retrieving his bag and unwinding the cloth wrapping on his musket. There in the dark he prepared - he only had one shot, but the snap of gunfire would scare any beast off the hunt. He waited. It was eerie quiet.


Listening close he thought he heard the pitter-patter of feet dashing across the dirt. Crack! He snapped to his right just to catch a glimpse of a dim red light dashing behind a tree. He heard a noise behind him, only to whip around and find a glance of something tall darting off. His nerve broke. It was time to go. He wasn't going to wait for death, instead he listened as it followed, its footsteps always stopping when he turned around to point the musket, never fully in sight.


He needed to head east - to Mugyabok - that was the quickest way out. Enough time eventually passed so that Soodan was comfortable his pursuer wouldn't take him out-right, it seemed a cowardly thing, but he certainly wasn't going to slow down for it. The sloppy ground pulled at his legs like ten-thousand grasping hands. He tried to shake it off but it weighed on his body and mind, drawing his focus from the path.


He took another step forward and caught his feet. The ground came up to meet him as tumbled down, but it was too steep to find purchase. He tore through branches and over exposed rocks. The world spun and the dark mist warped around him. His mind warped as well - his beacon, his guiding light, the Yoma Tree was gone.


Soodan stumbled through the dark, abandoning his sense for the traditional senses. Stumbling blindly ahead through the wet muck. After a seeming eternity of darkness, a heavenly light appeared in the distance, and he followed until he came to a clearing. Surrounded by massive redwoods, there was a decrepit old lodge among the many abandoned shacks. Behind the lodge light bounced upwards, coruscating up off the trees.


The source itself was a tree, aglow with white light streaming up its veins, just like the Yoma, only smaller. The tree pulsed with the light. He swore he heard a faint pulse, like that of a heart. Soodan, still apprehensive, rallied in its presence as he approached the miniature tree.


The rustling returned behind him.


He quickly glanced over his shoulder - nothing. He turned his head back and was face to face with his pursuer. It stood between him and the tree, the light behind it obscuring its form, except for two large red eyes that peered down at him from behind the black blurred visage.


Before he could think, he rammed his bayonet through the creature's chest and pulled the trigger. There was a bright flash of light as the powder exploded, giving a momentary glimpse of the ligneous creature. It was human shaped, but it was too rough and ragged. The rifle was stuck fast in its chest, and so there it remained as he dashed back away from the abandoned camp.


He ran over the rugged terrain for a time, but his legs were tired and his mind exhausted from the restless night. As he stumbled through the undergrowth he was beset by more mysterious light - this time in the form of little twinkling globes spinning in a dazzling dance, beckoning him forward.


What a beautiful light. What beautiful creatures.


He reached out his hand to grasp at them. The little twinkling shapes fluttered back and he followed, mesmerized. Spellbound, Soodan continued forward, as they led him to a spot between the trees. He was stopped as one of the shapes fluttered up in front of his eyes. The sprite had big compound eyes and dainty antennae, and it revealed a shiny set of razors as it smiled.


"Weary traveler, pursued by darkness, take heart and follow, come ahead with us and rest."


Soodan was so tired, dragged all about like a leaf in the wind, he went by without any care, carried wherever it took him. No weight of obligation, no immense responsibility. He lay where directed and went to sleep without a second thought.


The next morning they were all gone, along with his pack and supplies. He sneezed, which shook off the thin layer of damp powder covering him. His skin felt raw and sensitive. The ever present drizzle in the Heartwood continued in the daylight, and he sat there in astonishment, wondering at the events of last night.


He despaired that he had lost his pack, his loot, his gun, and was left with nothing but shame and cowardice. He still couldn't feel the forest, but he knew he was deep in the forest, lost in the depths where even the light of day struggled to reach the earth.


Sitting up on the cool earth, Soodan looked up, only to see the creature from last night hanging onto a tree, joints bending in sickening directions as it watched him. This time though he was more angry than afraid - this monster followed him, frightened him, but all it did was follow and watch. It had dogged him every step of the way, and for what? He stood up straight and squared his shoulders - defenseless, defiant. It dropped to the ground where it towered over him in the dim light of daytime in the forest, its thin frame covered by bark as deep and dark as ebony, woody growths twisting out from its head.


"TAKE ME, THEN!" he shouted. It looked into his eyes for a moment, then it turned and walked back into the forest. Soodan was incensed. "So now you decide to leave me alone! What was the chase for, why did you follow me, why did you herd me out here!" Pausing, it turned its head and stared at him with its beady eyes. Slowly it spoke with a voice like splintering wood,


"Follow... Namiin".


Follow? He thought. It wants me to follow? Tentatively, he did just that.


As the odd pair walked a new fog rolled in, silver and supple it swirled around them. They had been so deep in the forest, in the midst of ancient trees and dense foliage, but they were rapidly thinning - they must've been covering leagues in mere minutes.


He finally had time to gather his thoughts while they strode along. Namiin. He had heard that name at the academy, it was one of the many gods of the Bukhanese that had been sealed away by the Great King. Soodan was still afraid, but his Sense was returning and he could feel the direction they were headed: South. Out.


The Namiin stopped in a clearing a few hours walk from the southern edge of the forest. Soodan stopped too, several paces behind it. As they stood still the flowing mist stilled and began to dissipate. It turned around and, reaching its long arm into a hollow in its chest, it pulled out his pack. Everything was there, tools, long-arms, food, water, but no Yoma Seeds.


It looked at him with its piercing red eyes and the forest went still as the two stood in the silvery mist. It stood there a long time before breaking the silence with two simple words, "Not yours". The mist cleared and they were on the road, and suddenly he knew exactly where they were, his inner-sense had returned like the sun after a storm.


He bent over and picked it up, and when he lifted his head again the Namiin was gone, in its place a small white sapling. Soodan simply slung his gear onto his back, and started the walk out of the Heartwood.


He was tired of languishing in the woods while his peers became Hwarang and Magi, while they did something with themselves, while they earned glory and status. His time wasting here was done - the Magi needed to know about his encounter with the Namiin. Something new was coming and he would be the first to tell of it.


The pillars holding up the ceiling of his confinement would enclose him no more. The gently rolling plains of Chinseong Duchy spread out before him and he stared up at the open sky. Possibility, uncertainty, struggle, fear, excitement, and duty all swirled around in his chest like the mist on that strange night. He took his first step forward.