The Legend of Death Valley Green the color of life. Once long ago, before writing, and before war, there lived a place composed entirely of green, trees as tall as the sky, each one engulfing one another in an endless display of harmony at its finest. There were grasses of every shade and flower for every scent the mind could master, and then some. There were fruits and plants alike of endless variety; fields and meadows, rivers wide enough to make waves, and animals of every size and shape. This forest, this ocean of trees, was unlike any other the earth had ever grown. Its sheer beauty was more than enough to put any other forest to shame. It was said if one were to listen hard enough, you could actually hear forest breathe, a long slow intake of the breeze, with an equally calm outtake. In this rhythm, it lived. In every sense of the word, this forest, this sanctuary, was alive. It was completely untouched by the hands of men; save one. The forest, in all of its splendor and enormity, was owned, claimed by one boy, if that word could be used to describe him. Deep, far beyond where the trees began, or before they ended. Through and between the trees he walked, in an elegance not yet seen by humanity, swaying on the whisper of the wind, almost becoming one with the ocean itself. He and the forest, intertwined in an endless dance of tranquility and desire. He was a child that lived beyond the world of mortality; brought into life and cared for by the forest, or perhaps it was the other way around. He was the spirit of the forest. He talked to it, and it talked back. They played with each other, and they were true friends. But no matter how fun it was to have someone as great as the forest for a dance partner, the boy couldn’t help but wonder; “What else was out there?”, “Was their anything else?” At first the boy’s urge for knowledge was nothing more than a thought on the back of a whim, but with each passing day the boy’s curiosity grew. It grew and it grew and it grew, until one fateful day, for the first time in all of his memory, he stopped dancing. The moment he stood still, it was as if the entire forest had come to a standstill. Every sound that the forest could make abruptly stopped. The great symphony of nature had been interrupted. The forest had ceased to breathe. It was not as if the forest couldn’t fill its lungs, it was as though it were holding its breath, waiting for all time if it had to; to start the dance once again. The boy stood there amongst the leaves, almost in a state of shock. This desire, no, this need to know had overwhelmed him to such a point that he was forced to stop the one thing in his existence that he cherished more than anything else. But stopped it he had, and although he wanted to continue the dance and pretend that nothing had happened at all, he could not. He needed to know what else there could be. He wanted to pursue the dance once again, almost as much as his desire of the knowledge he so desperately sought, but he knew he couldn’t; wouldn’t, until he learned what lay out side of the forest. He knew what he had to do. He was frightened, the idea of leaving the only home and friend he had ever known made him shake with a mixture of both anxiety and fear. But the idea of never quenching his curiosity and never starting the dance again made him scared even more. So, with the entire forest watching him; the trees, the rivers, the flowers, and even the animals, he started walking. He walked for what seemed like an eternity, never before had the boy realized how unimaginable huge the forest really was. Several days and several nights passed, the entire time the boy walked, and the entire time, every eye in the forest followed him. Then, one day after journeying far longer than he had ever expected, the boy stopped; now for the second time in his life, far away, deep in the distance, he saw something. Something he had never seen before. From where he stood, it looked no larger than a pinprick of white amongst the shadows. It was so small and yet its radiance shown with such vibrancy, that its beauty rivaled that of even the forests. The boy’s heart skipped beats. Could this possibly be the answer he was looking for? He began to walk again, slowly at first, but with each and every step the light came closer, and with each and every step he found himself moving faster. Soon he was sprinting through the branches, trying to avoid each tree as best he could, but no matter how hard he tried, he ran into nearly every trunk. Regardless of the forest’s efforts to stop him; he ran. He ran and ran and ran, and with every movement the light grew. He ran and jumped and dived through the leaves, hardly aware of the entire forest following his every move. He ran and ran and ran some more, the light just barely beyond his grasp. At that point the boy wasn’t even aware of himself anymore. All he knew was that he had to reach the light. He was an empty shell, filled only the one desire. His eyes were possessed, and his body had been severely beaten by the forest, but still he ran. He couldn’t keep this up for much longer. His body was nearing its limit, but the light was so close now. “Almost there.” His body was beginning to give out, he had begun to stumble, and his pace had slowed. But he knew, he knew he couldn’t stop now. Not after coming so far. Not after stopping the dance. He was bleeding, his muscles had torn from stress, and more than a few of his bones had been broken. He was pushing the limit that his body could give. He was running on willpower alone, and soon even that would surrender to fatigue. At this rate, he was going to die. And so, with one final push, he leapt. He leapt with all his might, and was engulfed by the light. The boy flew through the trees, and out of the forest. He tumbled down a dirt hill with all the velocity it had taken him to escape his home. He rolled through rock and gravel until he reached level ground. It wasn’t until he came to a complete stop that he realized his surroundings and the true scope of the outside world. He was lying on his back and starring up. For the first time, he wasn’t surrounded by trees. His eyes hurt, there was a bright light coming from where what used to branches. The green background of leaves had vanished, and where they once were, there was now a deep blue canvas that seemed to not have an end. It was only then after being lost in the process of seeing the real world did he hear a groan from behind him. His name was At’rune. He was the strongest boy in his village, and his name meant courage. He was 17 years of age. And as far back as he could remember, his people had always shown great respect for the great forest. No one knew what was in it and that only dark and horrible things could lie in such a mysterious place. It was for this reason that his tribe had chosen to settle their village almost a three days ride on horseback from the threshold of the forests borders. It was nearly three days ago that the village chief had noticed that the communal firewood stock was running low. Their immediate surroundings were nothing but plains and dirt, so the only place closest to the village where firewood could be found was the forest. The people being intimidated by the forest and its mysterious ways, made the task of collecting wood the least popular task in the village. At’rune, being the bravest, volunteered himself to go and gather the wood. He figured if someone had to get the wood, it might as well be the one whose name meant he was fearless. After approaching the forest, he started to collect fallen wood as fast as he could. Even if his name said otherwise, the place still felt creepy. The less time spent near it the better. Nothing had ever been seen coming in or out of the forest, or at least not by At’rune and his people. That was why just as he was letting his guard down; he was surprised to be tackled full force without any warning, by some boy charging out of the trees. At’rune lost his balance and fell head first down the steep hill leading up to the forest, with the boy. The entire way down, At’rune was thinking in the back of his mind how many ways you he was going to pummel this kid once they reached the bottom. At’rune got up and was fairly dazed by the fall. The boy was staring at him, almost with a look of curiosity. He was badly injured, and seemed to be lost in thought. At’rune’s anger towards the boy fell through as it dawned on him, that this boy, whoever he was, had just come out of the forest. Feeling a bit curious himself, At’rune said a bit timidly, “Hello”. The boy screamed at the word, and was then fainted on the spot. At’rune moved closer for a better look. The boy couldn’t be any older than 14 years of age. At’rune felt pity for the boy. He looked more scared than anything; he had just come out of the most frightening place he could think of, and to top it off, he looked as though he had just been stampeded over. He couldn’t just leave the boy here, but if he didn’t start back soon his village would get concerned and send someone out to look for him. It was then that he decided to do the only logical thing possible. He got on his horse and started heading back to his village, although he would not be the only one. At first the others were angered at At’rune for bringing this unconscious wild boy from the forest into the sanctity of their village. But the village chief decided to wait until the boy awoke, ask him why he was here and then decide on what to do with him. A few days passed before the boy finally awoke, and to the shock of the entire village, the boy could not speak. They asked him where he came from, why had he come out of the forest, among other things. But not so much as a word was ever said by the boy. The chief coming to the conclusion that the boy couldn’t be as much harm as they had feared, decided to let the boy stay; For a little while at least. It took some time, but over the years At’rune was able to help the boy, whom he had decided to name Che’wook, learn the ways of his people. After almost ten years living alongside the boy, they had formed an unlikely friendship. Over time Che’wook learned to enjoy the new world that he had crossed into. But with each and every seconded he spent among his new friends, he remembered less and less of his past life among the trees. After Che’wook’s arrival, the village chief had decided that the forest was too dangerous for his people to go near anymore. So he declared that every person in the village was forbidden to go near the forest ever again. Especially on the off chance that more of Che’wook kind could burst through the leaves. One day, after completing the day’s chores, At’rune and Che’wook were out searching the plains for a horse that had chewed through its rope, and had strayed from the village in the middle of the night. They traveled farther out of the village than Che’wook could remember, almost a three days ride. As they were climbing to the top of a steep hill, the environment changed drastically. The air became hotter, and more arid than before. As soon as they reached the top and the ground leveled off, they understood. The entire landscape as far as the eye could see was a harsh mixture of sand and rock. At’rune said in a somewhat disbelieving voice “can you believe this is where I first met you?” he laughed slightly out of the irony. It was a desert, of unimaginable proportions. It covered the landscape as far as the horizon; it didn’t seem to have an end. But, way, far out in the distance, At’rune thought he saw something. “Hey do you see that?” he asked. Che’wook nodded; there was definitely something out there. It was too small to make out from where they stood. “I think it might be the horse. You want to go check it out?” “Sure” responded Che’wook, who had become very quiet all of the sudden. After several hours of riding, the boys finally reached what had been a little black dot from the hill. It had not been the horse as they had hoped, but just some old dead tree. “Wow, I haven’t seen a tree in ages. It’s probably the only one for miles” said At’rune. But Che’wook hadn’t heard him. His eyes had become locked onto the tree. He seemed to almost be in a trance. “Hey, you there?” At’rune said after not getting a response. At that moment Che’wook dismounted from his horse and walked towards the long dead wood. He placed his hand on it. It was then that he had the sudden urge to do something, but he had no idea what. He started to move. Sluggish at first, but the more he moved the softer his movement become. He started circling the tree. His heart was racing now, he had become overcome by this desire to move, and he knew he had to obey. It felt as though that at that moment the only thing in the world that mattered was that tree. “What are you doing?” At’rune asked. But he received no reply. Che’wook kept circling the tree, his movements becoming more and more random. By now he was almost performing some sort of weird dance for the tree, but why; he didn’t know. On and on he went, clumsily shaking about the tree, until after what felt like days to him, his feet felt something. It was only for a moment, but he had felt it all the same. It was like an old friend saying “hi”. His toes had caught a rhythm he couldn’t explain. He started to sway in the wind; his swinging around, slowly started molding to the beat. He started moving in a way that he no longer remembered. Che’wook was no longer there, the boy was all that was. The spirit of the forest, with memories of days past rushing back to him, became lost in the dance. At’rune, now sitting on a nearby rock, was without words. He had never seen someone move in the way that Che’wook was moving now. His friend was there, and yet he wasn’t. He and the tree almost seemed to be moving with each other, almost as if to some unheard song. He danced around the tree, while at the same time, in some weird way, he was the tree. At’rune was speechless, and could do nothing but watch the two, tree and Che’wook, dance. After nearly an entire day of sitting out in the sun and watching his friend dance, At’rune was becoming increasingly tired, as well as thirsty. He decided it was time to head back to the village. The horse was probably long gone by now and really there wasn’t any need to stay there. At’rune got up, and approached his friend. He reached out his hand. He barely brushed his shoulder, but it was enough. The boy stopped abruptly. He turned around, and looked at the odd man standing before him. He then remembered that he knew this man. There was a long moment where the two locked eyes, and nothing was said, and then a single solitary tear crawled down the spirits face. And yet, he was smiling. He turned around to face the tree once more. Its longest branch near the top, slowly started drooping down, even though there was no wind. It bent low and caressed the boys face. In the way a mother would to her child. On the very tip of this dead and rotting branch, a single tiny green bud grew; far faster than any other bud would grow on another tree. It grew and grew until it reached about the size of a thumb. Then, as though the bud had been especially planned by the tree, for that exact moment, the bud bloomed. Out of its green shell, a single white flower with five white petals emerged from the cocoon of leaves. The boy, now sobbing, picked the flower from the branch. And then, even At’rune heard it. It was soft, but doubtless it was there. A whisper rippled through the air. It was the sound of someone exhaling their breath, after having to hold it for a very long time. The boy was on the ground now, still sobbing. At’rune was silent; his mind was racing; what could have just happened here. Suddenly, as if commanded by fate, the tree caught fire. At’rune tried to put it out, but the boy held out his arm to block him, he wasn’t going to let him. Within minutes the tree was no longer there. All that was left was a pile of black ashes, but even that was starting to blow away on the breeze. The boy, crying still, stood up. He faced At’rune, and said two things, “Goodbye, and thank you.” No sooner had he said those words did the boy himself catch ablaze, even though there wasn’t a match for miles. At’rune couldn’t move, or even speak. He just stared in a surprising calm way, as the boy, Che’wook, the spirit of the great forest, his friend, was engulfed by flame. And within moments, there was another pile of ash on the ground, floating away in the wind. As soon as the spirit of the forest had earlier leapt through its trees, the forest had begun a struggle for its life. One it could not win without him. The spirit was part of the forest, as was the forest a part of him. And with the spirit gone, the forest couldn’t survive. The boy had forgotten all about his home the forest, and in doing so relinquished all hope it ever had of surviving. Over the years during the boy’s absence, the animals left, the rivers dried up, and the trees started to die off, slowly turning into ash and sand, until only the one remained. It was the last surviving tree of the once great sanctuary that was the forest. Today, the valley in which the forest had once lived, has been named Death Valley, in order to remind all that walk through its harsh wastelands, that when they walk on the sand, whenever they breath the air, when they feel the blinding heat of the sun, that that place was once the greatest living achievement the earth had ever made. No one knows if the great forest ever actually existed or not, but some say, even today, if you go out into the middle of the desert and if your as quiet as you can possibly be, you can still hear the trees breath, riding on the wind.
Reason for writing:
lol, it was actually a hw assignment. its a bit long, tell me what you think.
Birth sign: Pisces
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