The King’s Forest

Across the bridge behind the old castle lies another world. A foreign king’s domain encircled by our own. Within its boundaries, the common man is no man at all.

I’d be lying if I said I’ve never wondered what life is like for those living on the other side. I’m sure the hunters could give me some inkling. They cross the bridge almost every morning and return by twilight with game both captured and slain.

Questions to ask? I could think of plenty, but they’ll never receive them from me. If I really wanted answers, I’d pick up a bow and find them myself. Of course, I never seriously considered doing that. I had my studies to attend to and my curiosity was of the mild sort. It had never been so great so as not to be quelled by looking into the world from afar. At least, that was the case, until that world looked back at me.

Across the gap between our hills, I met eyes with a doe. Showing an intelligence unbecoming of her kind, she bowed to me then gestured that I come to her side. A denizen of that foreign domain had given me an invitation.

It was surprising. One thing I remembered of the forest’s legend from when I was a child was that the King of the Forest—and by extension his children—hates us. Well, that and the fact that animals aren’t exactly prone to giving invitations to strangers. It’s not everyday that does and the like hand them out, you know? My jokes at the expense of the situation aside, the days just kept growing stranger for me. Thinking there’d be no greater harm in experiencing more of the absurd, I decided I would accept her invitation.

The bridge across is blocked by heavy gates on both sides, so I had to shimmy along the brickwork of the side railing to jump onto the bridge. Repeating the process once more at the forest side gate, I successfully completed my unlawful crossing. My punishment came almost immediately. Upon turning to the forest, I was startled by the doe. She had managed to sneak up behind me and the sight of her made me almost trip back from surprise. More than rules would have been broken if I had. I needed to be more careful.

Once I had my feet on safer footing, the doe bowed to me yet again. I had not been mistaken, the deer clearly had an odd awareness of formalities. “You may rise.” I said. I thought myself stupid for assuming she could understand, but the doe raised her head, turned to the forest, and started walking. When she reached the point where the treeline began, she looked back at me just standing there. “Right. I’ll come along.” I started following, close behind so as not to get lost. It didn’t seem likely, though, as the forest floor was quite soft and left clear tracks behind.

It felt like we walked for quite some time, but upon arriving at our destination, a clearing with a large tree at its center, I felt little fatigue. Once we came beneath the tree’s shade, the doe beckoned me to sit. I complied with her request and she proceeded to lay her head upon my lap. When I began brushing my hand along her fur, more critters—and some of the livestock we let roam the forest—started gathering and frolicing around us. It was irrational and wonderful in a way that I had only seen in my dreams and in a sense, this and that were the same. All dreams come to an end and it hadn’t felt so long before this one did too.

After experiencing much merriment, I awakened from my jolly haze and realized that I had lost track of time. Twilight would soon be upon us and though I had trouble believing the forest king actually existed, that didn’t mean I felt comfortable spending the night in the woods. Now that I was paying attention, I could hear the hunters gathering themselves in the distance for their return home. I could answer their calls, but that would of course lead to my father learning about this unsupervised excursion. Perhaps, I could follow the tracks the doe and I made on the way there instead?

As I thought of how I should make my escape, the doe began rubbing her head against my chest. I smiled and started petting her in return. She had probably felt my anxiety. My worries began melting away and I started thinking those fanciful thoughts that had brought me there in the first place. I was a guest. Surely, no harm would come of me as long as I remained with my host.

A Choice

What should Diane do?