![Profile banner image for ebtaylor](https://s3-us-west-2.amazonaws.com/images.prod.theprose.com/user-125149-banner-1627435152.png)
![Profile avatar image for ebtaylor](https://s3-us-west-2.amazonaws.com/images.prod.theprose.com/user-125149-square-1627434281.png)
A Road Alone
Binell walked with a steady stride. He kept his eyes glued on the dirt road that stretched out before him. An occasional scraggly weed or root would pop through the hard packed dirt, but otherwise the road was smooth and unbroken.
The day was beautiful and great for traveling. With weather this nice Binell wouldn’t usually mind being on the road. The two armed soldiers that flanked him ruined any pleasure he might have gotten from the trip.
If Binell had his sword he would have been more than a match for his escorts. Binell was renowned as a master swordsman and an expert tactician. That was probably the reason his two escorts walked with their own weapons drawn and at the ready.
The warrior looked down at his naked hip where his sword should have been. His weapon had been taken from him, along with his armor. Now, he was relegated to simple travel clothes that were well made, but would provide scant protection against two swords plunging into his back.
“Keep moving, traitor,” the soldier on Binell’s right spat.
Binell hadn’t even noticed he had slowed his pace. It was a habit he fell into when his journey was pleasant. It was a sort of “stop and smell the flowers” mentality he had fallen into. It was odd his habit would surface now. Binell sighed and quickened his pace.
The warrior cast a sideways glance at the soldier who grumbled at him. The man said nothing; he even averted his eyes away from Binell when he glanced back at him. The man was obviously intimidated by his prisoner despite the fact Binell carried no weapon and wore no armor.
The trio had been traveling for four days. They kept up a brisk pace. They were taking Binell to his destination as quickly as possible.
Before the journey began the warrior had been brought before the Imperial Tribunal, before Karyn herself. Binell had expected to be sentenced to death. After the trial when the Chief Magistrate proclaimed Binell’s sentence the warrior wished he had been.
He was to be exiled for his crimes. As soon as his sentence was read Binell was whisked away to the far western border, to the Forest of the Forgotten. This was the dumping ground for the Empire’s worst criminals. No one who had ever gone in had ever come out. The legends that surrounded the place said that as the bodies of criminals rot in the forest the soul is forever tormented.
For the last four days Binell had thought of little else. He wondered what he would face. Demons, the undead or perhaps worse awaited him. Now, they were very nearly there. Instead of a merciful execution Binell was to be cast into that dreaded wood to die slowly in body and soul.
At last, the trees of the Forest of the Forgotten came into view. Here is where the false casual nature of the journey died. His nerves were suddenly on edge and felt panic begin to swell in the pit of his stomach.
As he got closer and the warrior was able to get a better look at his final resting place Binell was surprised to find the forest was quite beautiful at least from outside. Never before had he seen such majestic trees. Most of the trees he had seen up to this point in his life were short and stubby by comparison.
The trees of this forest however soared high into the sky above. They towered over everything else and made the three miniscule men approaching seem utterly inadequate for life itself. Binell and both of his escorts looked upon the forest in silent awe.
After several minutes the second guard finally broke the silence.
“I wonder which will kill you first? The forest or the vile evil within it,” he said with a cruel chuckle.
“You are welcome to come with me and find out, if you have the courage,” Binell replied.
“You are the fool here, not me. I will sleep well tonight knowing your soul will already be tortured before we even get out of sight,” the guard replied.
The trio reached a stone obelisk that was next to the road and here the first guard called for a halt. No one save for the condemned could cross this point. It was still more than twenty yards or so from the entrance to the forest.
“Turn around, slowly,” the guard on Binell’s left ordered.
The warrior turned to see the soldier holding a full traveler’s pack and a sword, Binell’s sword. He looked at the pseudo executioners with a very confused expression.
The first guard removed a scroll from a pouch on his waist and unrolled it.
“You are hereby banished to the Forest of the Forgotten and the lands beyond for the remainder of your natural life and thereafter. Failure to comply will result in an example being made of you.”
Binell wondered what that last sentence meant. He doubted they could come up with a worse punishment than this.
The second soldier held out the pack and the sword. “In accordance with prescribed law, you may choose to enter with either the sword or the provisioned pack.”
For a moment Binell was confused. Was this just part of the torment? Some way to give the condemned a false sense of hope before being sent to their doom? Binell was no fool though. He would take any advantage he could get.
Binell carefully considered each option, but there was really only one choice. The sword would do him no good against the dread denizens of that forest. With the pack he could at least stand some semblance of a chance. That’s assuming that it actually contained something useful to him.
For all Binell knew the pack contained nothing more than moldy rags, but it would at least allow him to scavenge and carry whatever he found. Still though, there was one thing he did wonder about.
“Why offer me either?” Binell asked.
“The Magistrate Karyn decreed it as it is written in the law. Each condemned man is given two options of two things they found useful in life,” the guard replied.
Binell was not completely surprised, that woman always followed the letter of the law. Despite the magnanimous gesture, Binell suspected the intention was not at all altruistic. Knowing the sadistic and ruthless nature of Oizys’s courts Binell believed it was more as onee last torture in te form of false hope.
“I will take the pack,” Binell said.
The soldier threw it at his feet.
“A noble choice.” The other guard then unslung a bow he wore on his back. “If you try to escape you will meet a much less noble fate. Now, off with you.”
Binell wasted no more time in idle chatter with his spiteful guards. He picked up his pack, shouldered it and then the grizzled warrior walked past the stone obelisk to meet his fate.
Oddly, Binell did not get the sinister feeling that he expected considering the reputation this accursed forest had. His nerves were on edge, sure, but that was more nervousness about the unknown of what lay before him.
With the dire stories that swirled around this place he expected it to strike fear into the core of his heart. This forest looked no different than any other he had seen, except for the magnificent trees of course. He even caught sight of animals scurrying around on the outskirts and birds flitting about in the tangled branches of the trees. If this place was supposed to be the prison for tortured souls it certainly did not feel like it.
Binell did catch sight of two skeletal bodies just off the side of the road. The bones were partially hidden by the undergrowth from the ground beyond the trail. Broken shafts of arrows could still be seen sticking from the exposed rib cages.
These must be prisoners who attempted to flee rather than enter the forest. Binell thought to himself. The warrior would be lying if he said he didn’t blame them for at least trying.
Finally, Binell reached the mouth of the Forest of the Forgotten. He stopped one last time and looked back at his two escorts. His glance was answered with a raised bow. Binell actually smiled in spite of himself. Part of him wondered if he would be able to drag these two in with him. He was curious as to whether the damned within would punish him more harshly.
“At least they are taking their duties seriously, he muttered under his breath,” Binell said, then took the final step into the Forest of the Forgotten.
As soon as Binell took the first step inside he immediately found himself completely surrounded on all sides by dense woodlands. Everywhere he turned he saw nothing but tightly packed towering trees and tangled undergrowth. Even the road that led into the forest that should have been directly behind him was gone. There was no opening, only dense impenetrable forest, with no way out.
The two guards could still see Binell turning this way and that, looking very confused. They had been told to expect this, but were not told why. Once they saw this the guards were free to leave even if they could still see their prisoner.
“Hope he enjoys his eternity,” the first guard said with a sadistic chuckle.
The other guard said nothing. He just continued to watch the confused Binell with fascination. The other guard shook his companion’s shoulder to get his attention.
“Come, let’s leave this place. It makes my skin crawl. Do you not feel the evil? It’s everywhere.”
The second guard nodded in agreement. He too felt the dread of the forest, but said nothing because he did not want to appear weak in front of Binell.
They were both amazed that Binell entered the forest so easily. Neither said it, but despite his crimes they both admired the disgraced warrior’s courage. Without another word the two guards left Binell to his fate and started the journey home to the safety of their barracks.
Inside the forest Binell continued to turn every which way. Soon he lost all sense of which direction he even came into the forest from.
After checking every possible direction at least a dozen times Binell finally chose a random direction in exasperation and started walking. He immediately knew his only hope was to find some way out, perhaps on the other side of the forest and escape Oizys and into a neighboring nation.
For now, Binell just walked. As he carefully moved he took in the entire forest around him. The sun had difficulty penetrating the forest canopy, but where it did the light cast fascinating shadows on the ground.
He saw a lot of critters from the outside, but from within he could see how alive the forest really was. Deer, squirrels, birds and many other animals filled the forest. What’s more they did not seem to be the least bit concerned with Binell’s presence. They completely ignored him and went on about their lives as though the warrior wasn’t even there.
Everything about the forest was peaceful, almost comforting even. The slight breeze wafting through the trees carried the pleasant smells found within all forests. The moving air kept the close confines from becoming stale and claustrophobic. The sounds of the rustling leaves added to the peaceful aura. Soon Binell found himself completely disarmed by the place he was meant to die in.
After traveling for what felt like hours the shadows began to grow longer and the meager light began to fade as the sun sank lower in the sky. Binell began to look for a place to make camp. As luck would have it, he stumbled upon a small clearing next to a stream. Considering his situation Binell found it to be as good a place as any.
With what remaining daylight he had left Binell finally decided to go through the pack he had been given to see what he had. He wasn’t expecting to find too much.
His skepticism was replaced by utter shock to see the pack was actually filled with useful supplies. A bed roll, dry rations, a water skin, even flint and a tinderbox. Binell found himself wondering if Karyn had been taken with a fever when she authorized this. Binell could not be more grateful that he did not choose the sword. Binell was disappointed that there was no dagger or even a small knife, but he would deal with that later.
Binell gathered some wood lying on the ground nearby and before long he had a fire going. It wasn’t much since the wood he found were not large logs, but small twigs and limbs, but it at least chased the darkness away.
The warrior settled down against a tree and watched the flames. The chirping birds and the deer were now replaced by owls and crickets and other nocturnal denizens. Even the stream added its own music.
The breeze was still blowing, but the air was not chilly. The moon appeared in the sky, shedding its soft glow from above. Just like the sunlight, it filtered through the trees. Again, if not for his situation this would have been a lovely night.
Binell ate only a few of the dry rations he had been given. He already decided to conserve what he had since he didn’t know how long they would need to last, but he drank heartily of the water since he could easily refill his skin.
The night passed by slowly. Binell wanted to sleep, but he fought as hard as he could to stay awake. Falling asleep in this cursed forest with no companions was not a wise idea, especially at night.
Unfortunately for Binell, his own body removed the decision from his hands. It refused to continue any longer without rest and soon Binell was fast asleep at the base of the large tree.
A screeching owl above started Binell awake from his slumber. As his eyes opened and slowly came into focus he was alarmed to see he was no longer alone in his campsite. On the opposite side of the fire nearest the stream sat a mysterious figure.
Instinctively Binell reached for his sword, a sword that wasn’t there. He glanced down at his waist remorsefully. He then jumped to his feet. To his surprise Binell’s new companion was not some demon, or even a ruffian, but an old man huddled in a finely made cloak calmly munching on some venison.
“You really should not sleep so soundly,” the old man said gently. He looked at Binell with bright eyes, “You never know what sort of weirdo could wander into your campsite.”
Binell’s training kicked in and immediately began sizing the man up. He seemed thin and likely frail given his age. He would be no match for the younger and more muscular Binell. The warrior could easily kill the man with his bare hands.
“Calm yourself, I am no threat to you,” the old man said, correctly guessing Binell’s thoughts. “I am probably the least threatening person in this forest.”
“So far you are the only person I have seen,” Binell replied.
“That doesn’t mean I am the only one,” the man replied cryptically. “Sit down.” It was more a command than an order.
Despite all of his training urging him to kill this man, his instincts were telling him this man was indeed no threat and it would be wrong to just murder him. Binell eased himself back in front of his tree. He did keep a close watch on the man though.
“I have some more dried venison if you would like some. It is probably better than the rations you have.”
“You went through my pack?” Binell asked.
The old man shrugged, “Do you blame me?”
In all honesty Binell could not. He probably would have done the same. Then a thought occurred to him. “Did you rob me?”
The man actually snickered, “If I did, I didn’t make a very clean escape. But here,” he said and tossed Binell his pack. “Check and see if anything is missing.”
Binell felt like he was being baited into calling this man a liar, but he didn’t care. He quickly checked the pack and sure enough everything was there.
“Now that you have your fears mollified do you want some venison?”
Binell then got the impression he was being tested in some way. He argued with himself. He stared at the old man trying to figure out what his intentions were. For his part the old man sat quietly and poked at the fire with a stick.
“Yes,” Binell finally said.
The old man threw Binell a small pouch full of dried venison. He cautiously took a bite and found it was some of the best he had ever had.
“I told you it was better,” the old man said.
Binell actually smiled. This was becoming an absurd situation within an absurd situation.
“What is your name, old timer?” Binell asked.
“I am now known as Derun,” he said, “What about you?”
“Binell.” The warrior then looked at the old man, “You once went by another name?”
“Yes, but that was in another time, another life,” Derun replied.
Binell did not press him any further and Derun went back to poking at the fire with his stick.
After a few moments of awkward silence Binell finally broke the tension, “Where are you headed?” He thought he might be able to get some directions from this man.
Derun shrugged his thin shoulders, “I am still trying to figure that one out myself.”
“How well do you know these lands?” Binell asked.
“Quite well, some of these trees are like old friends to me,” Derun answered.
“Can you tell me how I can get beyond the forest?” Binell asked with hope in his voice.
Derun ignored the question. Instead, he asked one of his own, “How did you come to find yourself here?”
“I was exiled,” Binell answered reluctantly.
The warrior was practically willing to beg to be told how to get out of here, but he was afraid to run the old man off. He wanted to escape this forest, but he also didn’t want to be alone either.
“By who, your great Empire?” Derun asked.
“Yes, I broke the law and now I am paying the price,” Binell replied grimly.
“As so should we all when we break the laws of our rulers,” Derun replied. “But what if the law we break is unjust?” Derun asked suddenly.
“What?” Binell asked.
“What if you are accused of breaking an unjust law? Does that make you an unjust person?”
“I would not think so,” Binell said. “But that did not happen to me. The laws of the Oizys are just and fair and I broke those laws.”
“I see,” Derun said, “So you are the wicked, the evil; someone who is deserving of condemnation and damnation?”
“I suppose I am,” Binell answered in a low voice. He was confused by Derun’s line of questioning, but talking to this odd man helped to pass the time. And oddly enough he found himself comfortable with him.
“If that is true, why have the fallen not taken you?” Derun asked.
“The who?” Binell answered, confused.
“The fallen,” Derun repeated, “the souls that are forever cursed to walk this forest. These souls of the damned always, immediately, seize those who are like themselves, to add to their numbers, to share in their bitter misery.”
“I have seen no one else,” Binell said, trying to sound confident. But his stomach churned a little at Derun’s words.
“You may not have seen them, but they are all around us. Even now as we speak. They seem to hunger for you more than any other,” Derun said nonchalantly while still poking at the fire.
Binell quickly stood and looked all around the forest with fear-filled eyes, but all he saw was impenetrable blackness beyond the light of the fire.
Derun chuckled once again, “Calm yourself, they cannot harm you. Not yet anyway.”
“I see no one,” Binell protested. Now the warrior was getting angry with this man. He felt like Derun was making sport of him.
Derun casually reached into the fire and grabbed a piece of wood that was burning at one end and threw it towards the forest. At first Binell saw nothing, and then gradually a few shapes began to emerge in the darkness at the edge of the firelight. That was bad enough, but worse still these newcomers did not appear to be solid!
Binell could see right through the bodies of both men and women. Their skin seemed to be decaying right before the warrior’s eyes. He could see muscled sinew and bone. They were dressed in torn and ragged clothes and all of them looked at Binell with intense flickering eyes that burned with hate for the living.
The situation suddenly grew even more desperate; more and more people began to slowly materialize. It was a veritable army of the damned that was completely surrounding Binell and Derun. They even hovered over the stream as though they were standing on solid ground.
Derun went back to casually poking at the fire. He paid scant attention to the swarm of souls now surrounding them. Binell had never been so terrified in all his life. Nothing in his training even came close to telling Binell how to deal with this; he had been trained to fight the living, not the dead.
“Who are they?” Binell asked in horrified awe.
“I told you, the souls of the damned. They are those who were cursed to spend all eternity in this unliving state,” Derun explained. “They are always immediately aware when another soul enters this forest. Then they immediately seize the person, shred the body and add their life force to their ranks. It is a tortured and eternal existence.”
“Who sent them here?” Binell asked.
“Your Emperor and Emperors past,” Derun said. The old man looked out into the crowd of malevolent spirits and watched as they all slowly faded from view as the burning wood Derun had thrown to the camp’s perimeter slowly flicked out.
“The Empire has condemned this many people to live on in this torment?” Binell asked aghast.
“Of course. Oizys’s idea of mercy is perverse to say the least. But to be honest most deserve it this fate; others, not so much.”
“Why did they not take me then?” Binell said.
“You are different,” Derun said.
“How so?”
“Do you know what has happened in this forest, or where it even came from?”
“I only know it is part of our western border and that people are forbidden to travel here except for the condemned,” Binell’s voice hung his last word.
“There is so much more to the history than that,” Derun said. He then looked up at Binell. “You might as well have a seat. Do you have somewhere else to be?”
Binell’s mind could not grasp the absolute ludicrous circumstances he found himself in. He was in a cursed forest, surrounded by the malevolent spirits of those who roamed the woods for all eternity and his only company was a creepy old man who wanted to give him a lesson in lore. How did his life come to this?
Eventually Binell sat down more out of defeat at his lack of options than anything else. Derun was right; where else did he have to go?
“Long ago this land was once the site of a great battle, the last stand of General Murn,” Derun said.
“Murn? You mean Murn the Hated? The man who nearly led our forebears to ruin? As children we are taught the treachery of the General Murn,” Binell said.
“Really? That is not the history I know. Perhaps you will let me tell you the story I know?” Derun asked.
Binell nodded and raised a hand to continue.
“General Murn protected these lands for years. He saw it as his sacred duty that he would willingly sacrifice his life for. This was the site of the single most important battle he ever fought. The struggle went on for days, almost without pause.” Derun paused, his voice had changed. It became tinged with melancholy, almost like he was reliving a painful memory.
Finally, Derun continued, “At long last, Murn’s forces were on the verge of total victory. Then at the most crucial moment the general was betrayed by his closest ally. The general was murdered, but not before he was able to deliver a fatal blow to his former friend. Without Murn’s guidance his forces withered against an enemy counter attack and they were defeated.”
Binell listened intently, he actually forgot about his surroundings for a moment, but only for a moment.
“Afterwards, the battlefield was littered with so many dead, but the defeated did not have the capacity to bury them and the victors did not care, not even about their own fallen comrades. In time the bodies became the fertilizer for this great forest. Each and every soldier lives on as one of these majestic trees. Former enemies who now stand side by side in peace. All of them are here, except for two.”
“The general, and the one who betrayed him,” Binell deduced.
“What makes you think that?”
“Seems only logical, one would linger on in their grief after losing the battle and so many men and the other would be cursed for their betrayal,” Binell replied.
“Your intuition serves you well,” Derun replied. “The betrayer was the first of this damned hoard.”
“His soul is here?” Binell asked.
“Somewhere, yes, lost within the dread hoard; a lost and forgotten traitor,” Derun said.
“In life he commanded legions. In death he is just a soul, lost in the mob.”
“And the general?” Binell asked.
“It is said he still roams the forest unable to rest. He walks among the trees apologizing to each fallen soldier whether they fought for him or not,” Derun replied.
“I have never heard this tale,” Binell admitted. He didn't admit that the tale choked him up a little.
“It was the final battle before the birth of Oizys. The empire that was built on blood and betrayal,” Derun said.
“That doesn’t sound right,” Binell argued.
“How so?” Derun asked the warrior.
“The final battle was fought on the very doorstep of the old palace. The Emperor’s forces overcame the treacherous General Murn through might and brilliant leadership. The Spire of Justice was built in honor of that battle upon the very spot where the old palace once stood.”
“The Empire was created by the blade of a traitor that was plunged into the back of his closest friend,” Derun replied evenly.
“That is not what is taught,” Binell said calmly. Though he disagreed he did not wish to start an argument with Derun.
“That may be what has been passed down, but that does not make what you were taught true,” Derun said. “I am sure you have heard the phrase, History belongs to the victors.”
Binell was beginning to get frustrated with Derun. He knew the legends of how the Empire was formed. Every child is taught that story from a tender age. But, before Binell could argue any further, Derun abruptly changed the subject.
“What is the Emperor’s name?”
The question caught Binell completely off guard. It was an odd question to be sure. What was even stranger was that Binell could not answer him. He truly did not actually know the name of the man that ruled all of Oizys. He lowered his eyes.
“You don’t know do you?” Derun replied. “What about the last Emperor or ones who came before that?”
Binell shook his head no. He had no idea what any of their names were. It wasn’t that he could not remember, it was that he never knew. As far as he knew, no one in Oizys could answer this question, except maybe those closest to the ruler.
“How can you follow someone that you don’t even know the name of?” Derun asked.
“We are taught to swear fealty to the Emperor, that he is wise and divine,” Binell answered in a low voice.
“I see,” Derun said. “What did you do to get exiled?” Derun said, suddenly switching topics yet again.
Binell was more than ready to answer this question. He was not going to hide his crimes from anyone. He would allow himself to serve as an example.
“Murder of a high ranking official,” Binell said.
Derun raised an eye, “Truly?”
Binell nodded his head with shame. “He was exercising his rights as a member of the elite class and I foolishly challenged that.”
“It ended up with this official being killed?” Derun asked. “What right was he exercising?”
“Choosing a wife,” Binell said.
Derun nodded his head. Arranged marriages had always been part of the royal life, but they often were unfair to one or both people in the marriage.
“What made this so terrible?”
“The girl he chose was only twelve years old,” Binell replied. “He himself was nearly thirty.”
“Why would he want to be betrothed to a child?”
“I am not sure, but it was clear she did not understand the honor she had been given, and she began to cry,” Binell said.
“Why wouldn’t she cry? That is no honor,” Derun said.
Binell said nothing, Derun understood.
“You agree with me,” Derun said.
“Yes,” Binell said, “I tried to convince this man to take an older girl, an actual woman. One who would be thrilled with the proposal, of which there would have been many. But, he demanded her. I can still remember the look on his face when he chose her. It was like that of a hungry wolf that was about to devour a sheep.”
It was Derun’s turn to be enthralled.
“Something inside me snapped. I told him he could not have her, that she was far too young, but he said the law made no such designations, which is true. For me the law wasn’t good enough. When he tried to seize her I defended her.”
“You were arrested for defending this child?”
“I was, but like the official said the law made no mention of age and Karyn only cares about the written law.” Binell said.
“Karyn?”
“The Imperial Magistrate,” Binell explained.
Derun nodded.
“I was sentenced to exile for disobeying the law and for killing the official,” Binell said.
“You spared an innocent girl from a terrible fate,” Derun said.
“Yes, but I made a mockery of the laws I swore to uphold,” Binell said.
“You are a fool,” Derun said. “You yourself have already said that it was wrong to obey an unjust law. Have you forgotten that?”
“But the Empire has no unjust laws. The Emperor is too wise.”
“The same Emperor that won’t even let you know his name because it lowers him to your level? You do not believe in the Emperor. You believe in a myth that has been built up around him and his predecessors,” Derun spat with undisguised contempt for what Binell was saying.
Binell sat in silence. He offered no comment, or argument.
“This is also the same Emperor that has magistrates that seem to care more about written law than the spirit of justice,” Derun’s voice was raising as he started to grow angry.
“Considering these facts would it be such a leap of faith to think they would change the story of how Oizys even came into being?”
“I still killed a man, I committed murder, by any definition I am a criminal,” Binell said.
“What you did was to save a young girl from rape. What you did was deny an evil man his chance to hide behind a despicable law so that he can do what he wanted without consequence,” then Derun’s eyes narrowed. “What you did was to prove to your courts and your Emperor that people can think for themselves. You were not exiled to this cursed place for breaking the law. You were exiled for doing the right thing and for shattering the illusion they built up around themselves. To them that is greatest crime.”
Binell stayed silent throughout Derun’s rant, not because he disagreed, but because, deep down, he knew everything that Derun said was right. The warrior had always lived by a strict code, but until then the laws had always been in line with his own morals. But then the time came when they diverged. When that happened he chose to follow his own sense of justice and was exiled for it.
“Now I see why these souls could not take you. You are not truly like them, and their hatred for you is all the stronger because of it.”
“Why?” Binell asked.
“Because you will be one of the few people to pass beyond the Forest of the Forgotten. The curse cannot capture you,” Derun said. “The answer to your question is yes.”
“What question?” Binell asked.
“I do know how to get beyond the Forest of the Forgotten,” Derun said. “You will be shown the way out.”
“By who, you?” Binell asked.
“Yes, I will show you the way,” Derun said.
“Who are you?” Binell asked.
“Like you, I am the truth that Oizys desperately wants to hide. After all the years I have lived in this forest you are one of the very few condemned to the Forest of the Forgotten that was truly innocent. Most were guilty not of following their own morality, but of letting their own ambitions and greed overshadow their vows of loyalty. It has been so long since the last truly innocent personI passed through I actually had come to believe that everyone that lived within Oizys were tainted and wicked. But you have given me a glimmer of hope,” Derun said.
“Most people are simply executed these days.
“Ah,” Derun replied. Somehow that leant him more hope. “It is now time for you to sleep. You will need the rest to complete your task. But before that I would ask one thing of you.”
“What’s that?” Binell replied.
“Do not waste this chance. You can affect change, you can make a difference. There are others that know the truth too. Seek them out,” Derun said. “You are the living embodiment of what Oizys most fears.”
The warrior nodded solemnly. Derun smiled warmly at the man.
Binell gradually became overcome with weariness. He had no hope to fight it and the warrior quickly fell into a deep sleep. As the old man sat looking at him, he wished that this was the man who had been by his side all those hundreds of years ago.
Binell awoke the next morning completely refreshed. He had not slept that well in a long time. It was as if his very soul was finally at peace. The dreams he had were truly remarkable; they seemed so real.
The warrior looked around his campsite and saw his fire had burned itself out, but what really caught his attention was a smooth path that seemingly appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the night. At the mouth of the path was a pouch that Binell immediately recognized. He opened it and was pleased to find dried venison, along with a well made knife that seemed so incredibly old, yet the blade still gleamed like new and was razor sharp.
Binell looked at the items in stunned silence when a realization hit him. So much for it being a dream. The warrior slowly came to terms with what had happened the night before and gratefully picked up the pouch and the knife. He looked around and called for Derun, but the mysterious old man was nowhere to be found. He also looked hard for the faint outlines of the damned spirits, thankfully there was no sight of them..
All Binell could see were animals playing in the underbrush and birds flitting from limb to limb in the trees above. Their songs gave a symphony to the brilliant sun in the sky. It was a truly glorious morning.
Binell turned back to the wide and smooth path. He was not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Derun had promised to show him the way out and he had kept his word. He added the pouch of dried venison to his own pack and put the knife on his belt and started off down the trail. He wondered the whole time what happened to Derun and he hoped fervently he was not abandoning the old man, but something within Binell assured him that wasn’t the case and the man that shared his camp with him the night before was well.
Again, Binell took in the forest around him. The morning made the Forest of the Forgotten the most alive place he had ever seen. Ironically it was not filled only with the damned, but with sacred life. The trail led him along a smooth and easy trip. His spirits soared; it was now not exile, but a new adventure.
Binell had been given many truths in the Forest of the Forgotten. What would the world beyond have to teach him?
THE END
Title: A Road Alone
Genre: Fantasy, Dark Fantasy
Age Range: Adult, maybe Young Adult
Word Count: 6200
Author: Eric Taylor
I think my style would be a good fit for your group because I strive to create a world that people can completely lose themselves in, if even for a short time. I consider that to be extremely important especially in today’s world of uncertainty. I also want to be able to connect with my readers with the characters that I create for my worlds.
A soldier who was condemned to die for violating the laws of his emperor in a cursed forest finds himself questioning his beliefs after he spends some time with a strange old man that invades his campsite.
Eric Taylor is an aspiring writer from Ashland KY, who likes to write fiction, mostly fantasy. He likes to use twists and he also likes to let the bad guys win on occasion. You know, so it isn’t too predictable. His works tend to drift a little towards the dark side, but he alway tries to let the better parts of his characters’ natures shine through.
Eric writes both novels and short stories. One of his favorite projects is a compilation of short stories and novellas that are set in the same world and are loosely interconnected.
Eric has some works on Wattpad, but he has not had the time to post to the platform for quite some time due to his heavy work schedule. He has an Associate’s Degree in Applied Science which Eric uses in his career in the healthcare industry from both the patient care side and the I.T. side.
He tends to be a quiet person until you get to know him, then he never stops talking. Eric is introverted and enjoys the company of close friends as opposed to large gatherings.
Besides writing Eric enjoys hiking, reading, listening to music and playing the occasional video game.