LEAVING ROWANWOOD

A farmer was working his fields in the setting sun and he paused a moment, resting his weight on his spade. He spied a man approaching on foot along the road that ran beside his field, so he waited until the stranger was upon him. "Evening! It's a fine night for traveling." The stranger slowed, squinting at the farmer. "Glad to meet you, I've hardly seen anyone along the way. Might you know the fastest way to Barringtown?" "This is the only road to Barringtown from here, you've got a good 12 hours if you're a brisk walker." The stranger frowned. "Surely I could make better time if I cut through that forest over yonder? I reckon Barringtown is just over that ridge." Now it was the farmers turn to frown. "You best stick to the road and leave the forest to itself." The stranger was not that easily discouraged. "Well, maybe I'll just make my way over and take a look, there's no harm in looking." "Indeed, no harm in looking, just don't cross the fairy path." The stranger laughed, "So, you've a grand sense of humor! I should have known you were just pulling my leg."

The farmer smiled grimly and looked toward the wood. "I'll only tell you this once. When you come close to the forest, first you notice the fluttering of the leaves on the trees, and about the time you realize there's no breeze, you've already stepped onto a path of white flowers. Your body suddenly feels heavy and tired, and the cool of the forest beckons you. You step across the path into thick patches of mushrooms and as your leg brushes against them, a mist rises and you feel the whole world spinning. If you're lucky, you pass out right there and we'll find you in a day or so. If you're not so lucky and make it into the forest, well, no one will ever see you again."

The stranger had lost his grin and now looked perturbed. "No offense, but no one believes that sort of thing anymore. I'm no stranger to the woods, I know what plants to stay away from. Are there any bears or wild boars I should know of ?" "No creatures known to man live in that forest, but beware of the trees. There's an old timer in the next town, he's a friend of the forest fairies and they told him the fairy path is more to keep things in the forest, than to keep people out. They told him there are ancient trees, trees that eat flesh and bone, and they live deep in the forest, but sometimes they venture out to the treeline, hoping to escape into our world. Only the fairies keep them bound in there, but not even they can protect you once inside the wood." The stranger was looking down at the ground, shaking his head. "Well, I appreciate the advise, but really, there are no such things as fairies or trees that eat people. Those are just stories to keep strangers away and scare children." The farmer nodded thoughtfully, but he looked quite grim. "I used to think that also, but I've worked this field my whole life and I know all the trees that live at the edge of this forest. See that tree to the left there, it's trunk is darker and much thicker than the old birches?" The stranger looked and nodded. "That tree wasn't there this morning, it showed up about the time you came by." The stranger snorted. "Now you've gone too far. It's just not neighborly to try to scare people like that. This has been an interesting chat, but I'll be off now." The stranger strode away without another word.

The farmer watched him go down the road until he was just a little speck in the distance, then he glanced over at the trees. The big tree was gone, but the farmer thought he saw movement in the forest canopy, leading back into the depths of that dark wood. He looked at the spade in his worn hands, then back toward the forest. The sun had set, but the forest seemed to glow from within and you could see further into the depths of the woods. There were little green lights flashing here and there, perhaps fireflys, but then, they all seemed to be coming out of the forest. Lines of green lights came streaming out of the trees, then turned and followed the fairy path. They kept coming for some time and here and there the farmer thought he saw a small figure, and heard a soft whisper, but he couldn't be sure, perhaps it was just the trees. He watched the procession until they all disappeared and he felt a great sadness, as if all the goodness had just left the world. He gathered his tools and went home for the night and for the first time in his life, he locked the windows and doors.