After Krusable’s wife died, he and his little daughter, Val, moved to the countryside where they would not be reminded of her. They did not have much, but they had enough living in a humble house with six chickens, two goats, and a horse. For several months, it felt as if their troubles had left them and for the first time since his wife’s passing, Krusable began to feel peace.
That changed one foul summer night. A ghastly wind from the Writhewoods blew across the land and filled the darkness with horrors. Krusable’s sleep was filled with twisted nightmares of a terrible future, agony, and ashes. Val, however, was too young to know to be frightened in that fateful gloom. And from the darkness a voice lured her away into the shrieking night.
When The Sun’s first rays warily touched the land, it revealed destruction and loss. Krusable found Val’s window open, her room empty, and the livestock scattered. The damage to the house was mendable, the animals could eventually be replaced, but Val, his only family whom he loved with all his heart, was the most precious thing he had. And now she was gone. In a fit of desperation, Krusable tore apart the house searching for some sign that she was still there, but he searched in vain.
He sought out his neighbors’ help. When he explained what had happened, they only shook their heads saying, “The Writhewood has claimed many, your loss is no more special than ours. Every equinox, the woods claim their tribute, whether in flesh or in fortunes.”
Krusable was enraged upon hearing this.
“Cowards!” He exclaimed. “Have none of you sought to stop this atrocity?”
At this statement, his neighbors grew angry and drove him out.
At the wreckage of his home, Krusable gathered what supplies he could, and took up his sword. He swore an oath, that he would bring Val home safely or die.
The Sun had begun to set by the time he reached the woods, casting eerie shadows across his path. That did not deter him. The trees loomed large, leafless giants constantly shifting in the breeze. He did not bother caring. Val was missing.
For what seemed like many days, Krusable searched in those woods. Eventually, he became weary. Sitting down, he realized that in his haste he had become horribly lost. Thinking back to his neighbors’ responses, he understood their despair. A little sliver of doubt began to worm its way into his mind, “What if I never find her? What if I starve here? What will happen if I do find her? Is she even alive? What took her away? Why didn’t I wake up?”
While these thoughts wore away his resolve, something moved in the corner of his eye. At first, he almost missed it; a shudder just out of sight. Krusable became still, watching. “Surely I must be dreaming,” He murmured. “That tree just moved!”
Stilled in awe, Krusable realized that more trees were moving. As their mighty limbs shifted, so did the wind. At that moment, Krusable realized that these trees were not moved by the wind, but the wind moved by the trees. And on this unnatural breeze, he heard a whisper.
“What is it that you seek traveler?”
“Show yourself creature!” He said, drawing his sword.
Gracefully stepping forth from behind a trunk nearby, was a beautiful woman in a white gown. She was unarmed save a small dagger at her waist.
“Perhaps I can help you?” She said with a gentle smile.
“My daughter…” He stammered suddenly feeling the weight of loss once more.
“I can help you find her.” She assured him. “But I will need something from you.”
He paused, surprised by this offer. But the thought of finding Val, pushed away any reservations. “Name this thing, and you shall have it.”
“It is a simple thing really. I require a heartstring.” She smiled sweetly. “Hold out your left hand.”
He complied as she drew her blade across a line on his palm, cutting a line down to his elbow. As the blood began to spill out, she spoke a quiet word and the blood became a scarlet thread. To his surprise, she tugged on the thread pulling it taut, and finally snapping it with a flick of her wrist. She casually picked up a twig off of the forest floor and began spooling the thread around it.
“Now where is Val!” Krusable demanded, still startled from what had just happened.
The woman led him deeper into the woods, guiding him by his uninjured hand. As they walked, the trees became more fluid, turning to watch them pass.
“Of all places, why choose to live in these woods?” Krusable asked suspiciously.
“I think I grew up here. I have always found that other places lack its charm.”
They continued in silence, for several reasons namely that Krusable was tired and desperate to see his daughter again, and the woman was quite poor at small talk. It was better that way.
Eventually, they came to a cave dimly lit with torches.
“She is within?” He asked.
The woman smiled and nodded.
Drawing his sword, Krusable entered and beheld a horrific sight. The cave was filled with bones, human and animal alike. Mixed in with those were various shiny trinkets and coins, but what drew his attention was the mass of red threads splayed around haphazardly, some coiled others tangled. Laying in the midst of those threads was Val.
Krusable rushed over to her, but found her to be cold and stiff, dozens upon dozens of the little strings. He picked up her form, drawing it close, weeping.
“I told her that I would show her pretty things.” The woman said, idly picking up a silver necklace and dropping it. “That was all it took, and now I shall have your thread too!”
With that she leapt forward, transforming into a massive spider. It was all Krusable could do to doge her without dropping Val’s body, but he lost his sword in the movement.
There was a horrendous crash as the spider’s many legs landed in the bones and trinkets. Seizing an opportunity, Krusable slung Val over his shoulder, and grabbed a torch as he ran for the entrance.
But just before he stepped outside, the spider-thing crashed skittered behind him.
“Let me go or I burn it all!” He shouted, holding the torch over a mass of thread.
The sweet voice answered from the monster, “If you singe a single strand I will strike you down and kill everyone you care about!”
Without looking away from the creature, Krusable backed out of the cave and into the forest.
“You will never find your way out you fool!” She gloated.
“That isn’t important, you already killed the person I cared about.” And with that, he lit one of the Writhewood trees on fire.
The damned thing reacted violently, moving faster than he had known they could, the blazing tree knocked about in a panic, spreading the fire through the woods. In less than an hour, the entire forest was ablaze and filled with the panicked movements of the trees.
Krusable’s neighbors saw the fire, and when the smoke cleared the next day, they went to the charred field where the forest used to be. In the center of the wreckage, they found Krusable’s body badly burned, but protecting that of his daughter.
Later they buried them, and made a monument to what had been done. With the regular tribute of people removed, the few farms were able to prosper and become a town, which many years later, became a great city. THE END.
