A Necessary State of Alarm

Waking, my first thought was that someone was breathing on me. For once, it had been a very deep sleep and it took several minutes to remember that I was in the forest and not home. 

For the past several days, I followed the plan. Listen, Move, Hide, Repeat. I even chanted it to myself because it seemed like good discipline to drill it so that I wouldn’t become careless. It’s too easy for everything to seem fine when the leaf-strewn path shimmers now and again with the teasing of a shy sun and the birds twitter merrily above and the marmots hop among the deep green plants. In the charm of the woods, it’s difficult to imagine any danger or harm, yet the memory of the ghastly glowing figures attacking Grent and his fellows and that horrific detached arm lying torn-sleeved under the branches of a tree would not leave my mind, even though I tried with all my might not to think of it. Perhaps it was for the best. I could not afford to relax. The state of alarm, even in surroundings so serene, was necessary for my survival.

Thankfully, I had enough food for a very long time, but the water would run out in a few days, so I needed to find a source without exposing myself. Or, better, emerge from the forest either at the Library or my home. I used the instrument with the arrows as a tool to keep me from going in circles, but I had no idea which direction the Library or home would be. It felt like a flip of the geldmanche. It could land either way. 

The weather behaved with great compassion. It was chilly at night, but never really cold, and it didn’t rain. 

And now awake, there was a gamey smell. And something was poking at me! No, nibbling! Teeth! And big, heavy breathing. Was it an Elchbare?

One of the drawbacks of the invisibility blanket was that I couldn’t see through it. 

I felt something poke at the blanket and heard breathing. Big, heavy breathing. Did Elchbaren do that?

And then, the blanket was gone and the large-toothed mouth of the creature who ate it was at my chest.

“Ahhyyy!” burst from me as I scrambled up beside the tree.

I don’t know if there had ever been a more beautiful sight.

The sun was high in the sky and poured through the clearing illuminating every color of the magnificent beast in front of me. There was a curious look in its large, sky-blue eyes as it finished munching the rest of the invisibility blanket. It was like a horse only broader and calmer and it sparkled with every imaginable color. Deep, rich colors. A Welchefarbe!

“Hello,” I said softly.

The Welchefarbe seemed to nod. Did it understand words? 

“You ate my invisibility blanket.”

Again, it seemed to nod.

“I needed it.”

Its nostrils flared and it blew a sound of protest. I’d always been told that Welchefarbe were good beasts. Safe. Were they?

“Do you know how to get to the Library?” I asked.

Another nod. Or so it seemed. Was I imagining the Welchefarbe understood and answered because I wanted it to be so? 

“Will you take me there?”

Again, an apparent nod.

“Alright then. I’m going to eat and drink a little first. Then, we’ll be on our way.”

And, to my amazement, the Welchefarbe knelt down on the ground to have its own rest. 

I opened the bag and pulled out a strand of food. I decided to call them Gummartigs. I chewed while gazing at the wonderous Welchefarbe stretched out in the sun in emerald, vermillion, ochre, cerulean, sapphire, chartreuse, crimson, fushcia, teal, lilac, sepia, lemon, scarlet, periwinkle, cornflower. There were more colors than I could identify before it was time to drink two sips of water and prepare for the ride to the library.

Riding the Welchefarbe was not without risk, I realized. Until now, I’d travelled quietly enough to go undetected. The Welchefarbe would make louder noises and be much more visible. It was a risk I had to take in order to get out of the woods.

This Welchefarbe did not have a covering like the one Grent rode. I did my best to climb the side of the beast without pulling its lovely hair. It didn’t get upset with me or even seem to mind and soon I had pulled myself on top and could sit. 

“Okay,” I said. “Let’s go to the Library.”

The Welchefarbe stepped with slow confidence through the forest and soon we came to a river where it drank and soon after the river there was a trail and I could see the Library. I had been so close!

There were drawings of the Library in the stories we read growing up, so I knew it immediately. It was endlessly tall and made of intricately carved stones. Artists had worked tirelessly to chisel all sorts of scenes into its walls and towers believing that one mistake and the Great Ones would strike them dead on the spot. There were grecks and spirits and common folk and musicians and animals. Behind the Library loomed a lake of such great size that it appeared around the edges of the building and it felt like we were coming up to some kind of grand rift in the earth as we drew closer.

Without hesitation, the Welchefarbe carried me over the bridge that spanned the water circling the Library and brought me to its heavy rounded doors, kneeling so that I could easily slip off.

What do I do next? Knock?

And then the door opened and there was the narrowest, tallest man I had ever seen with flowing green robes and hair an intense yellow, the color of daffodils. He looked like something you’d plant and I found myself checking his feet for roots. And just past him, I could see the shining halls and light spilling everywhere from the colored glass windows.“You’re too late,” he pronounced in a voice much deeper, and certainly more final, than I expected. And then, the door began to close. 

Next: Anches

This is the third part in a series of stories. Following are the previous installments starting with the first:

1. The Library
2. Listen, Move, Hide, Repeat