Srellen walked into the forest and immediately heard the beat of a tambourine. It only took a few measures before it was joined by English horns, playing harmony in an upbeat rhythm. The trees were almost all sixty feet high or taller. The temperature was perfect, and could not accurately be described as either warm or cold. But something was all wrong, and Srellen could not yet put his finger on it…
He looked around. That’s what’s wrong. In a forest, sound doesn’t travel very far, so if he was hearing music, the people playing should be close by. But he didn’t see any musicians. Something else was wrong about the music, but what…?
He decided to explore. The first evidence he saw that the forest was inhabited was the way two trees had been cut. Through the leaves of the trees above, there are occasional gaps where sunlight poured in. Where there was a tree growing in a sunbeam, it had been sawed down to a stump, making a mock stage lit by a ‘spotlight’ of sunshine. Turning away he could see another not too far off.
“What are you doing here?” came a small voice from the ‘stage’ behind him, which he had turned from a mere moment ago. A normal person would have jumped right out of his skin, but Srellen simply turned around.
The person standing on the stage appeared to be a twelve-year-old girl. She had shoulder-length blonde hair curled at the end, dressed in all green, and had the tiniest of frames. She held her hands together behind her back and casually swayed back and forth.
“You should be careful in the Lost Woods. It’s dangerous to get lost in here, especially you.”
“Why, and why me especially?” Srellen replied in his strong, gentle voice.
“Grown-ups that get lost in the forest turn into Stalfos!”
“What is a Stalfos?”
“a big, ugly monster”
He smiled.
“I see….”
He took all warnings at face value, but hearing things from a child’s perspective can be humorous at times. Srellen heard a scraping noise on a log behind him and looked to find nothing. When he turned back, the child was gone as suddenly as she had appeared.
The music entered the next section of the song and the English horn played melody while a cello took over the rhythm. Weird song…
One strange thing he noticed about this forest is the placement of the trees. Most forests have trees scattered all around randomly, with different amounts of space between them, so one could travel in any direction. This forest, however had large clearings, many with no trees at all. In contrast, where the trees did grow, they grew so closely together and so concentrated that they were completely impassable. This ‘wall’ of trees, with large clearings of no trees, made it seem as though the forest were composed of rooms. Adding to the strange ‘room’ feeling were the massive trunks of fallen trees that had been hollowed out from one end to the other. These hollow trunks formed man-sized tunnels that ironically served as ‘doorways’ between the ‘rooms’. In many places, taking a trunk-tunnel to the other side was the only way to proceed. This forest almost seemed as if it had been planned…
Srellen walked through a trunk to find a way to continue. Beyond the trunk he found a much smaller clearing with nothing but three more trunk-tunnels. Including the trunk he had just walked through, that made four ways to go; one in each direction.
Upon hearing a cadence in the song, it apparently looped around to the beginning as he once again heard the harmonizing English horns play their “oom-pa-pa-pa” rhythm. Something was not right about the music. He couldn’t figure it out. Just Enlish horns, a tambourine, and a cello? Was something missing?
Srellen continued straight ahead and found himself looking… over a cliff…. Everything in this forest was just wrong. But at least he knew for certain that it was inhabited: A safety fence had been constructed at the top of the cliff and there was a ladder leading down. A wooden target was hanging from a tree limb straight ahead. Yes, this forest was definitely inhabited… and he saw a few of them down the cliff and off to his right. They were children, roughly four feet tall, playing on some more of those sunlit stages. They wore frayed orange straw hats shaped like tepees that cast a shadow over their face. Or was that a face…? Aside from the small leather shoes and gloves, their entire outfits were made from materials that grew on plants, and were colored green and orange. Their clothes were trimmed with white rings of an unknown substance slightly larger around than a fist. Their arms and legs looked to be simply large branches of wood. In the position on their head where an entire face would be, all that could be seen were two glowing orange eyes and a mouth that resembled a snubbed duck bill; the rest was a dark void.
The two strange children laughed and danced back and forth, kicking their feet high out to the side with each step holding flutes as if they were playing them. He noticed that they were not the source of the music, as no flute was heard. Upon spotting Srellen, the Skull Kids stopped dancing and leered at him with malicious contempt.
“Hmph.”
<I am not wanted here.> Srellen turned around and stepped through the log tunnel, crunching sticks and leaves under his bulk. Exiting the log, he saw a peculiar bush with olive-green leaves, about one-and-a-half feet high. The bush turned and looked at him.
This elicited an even greater reaction than the girl popping out of nowhere. Srellen had never encountered a bush that had eyes, let alone look at him. Neither had he seen a plant “turn around” before. The bush creature had sorrowful-looking eyes and a round snout. The wizard seemed to unexplainably connect with the plant.
He smiled, at it did so (although, its equivalent of smiling was simply the uplifting of its facial features).
<So there are botanical organisms in this universe that can move spontaneously.> He increased in wisdom.
He laughed and it vocalized its own sounds of jovial approval. It then began playfully hopping up and down, rustling its leaves and bouncing away with the music. They parted ways happier than before.
<What a creature of contradictions!> he mused to himself.
<It is a bush, but it is not! Its eyes say, “I mourn.” but its heart says, “I am merry!”> He was on his merry way in quite a good mood when a freckle-faced redheaded boy, barely four feet tall, barred his path.
“You can’t pass through here! Only Saria’s friends can go to the Sacred Forest Meadow! AND it’s no grown-ups allowed!”
<Sacred Forest Meadow? Then this is the path I need to take…> “You should respect your elders, boy.” he stated in a stern, deep voice. “Don’t interfere with the matters of adults.” He towered over the child while issuing his authoritative command.
“Ha!” Mido laughed. “What a dummy! We don’t have to follow YOUR rules; the Kokiri don’t
have adults. It’s just us and the Great Deku Tree. So no passage for you!”
Although frustrated, Srellen had no intention of manhandling a little kid. He reasoned that there must be another way around.
There was so much wrong with this forest. He noticed that every sound echoed. Forests do not echo. There was nobody playing music, yet music could be heard everywhere. The music was wrong in that something was missing, but he could not determine what. The forest had a cliff, walls, rooms, and a pool of water in the middle of nowhere. A pool of water…
Srellen stopped at the pool. It its reflection, he gazed upon himself. Not out of vanity, but simply because it had been quite some time since he had looked at himself in a glass.
He saw his muscular 6’8” frame. This reminded him that a wizard must train physically in order to conquer his mind.
He beheld his face. It reminded him of a Spartan—though his beard was a bit trimmer—and that he must also be a warrior, for magic spells alone could seldom triumph in a duel. He was an old man, very aged, but could in no way be described as decrepit.
He studied his clothing. Above his chain mail tunic, his clothing was simply many red and blue cloths wrapped around one another to form a vestment. This reminded him how one must combine the elements to produce the desired result, be it physical or magical.
He examined the gold medallion suspended at his chest by a necklace. It was a keepsake from one of his teachers and strengthened his magical powers.
He noticed his sturdy leather boots. Yes, one must have a good foundation.
He gazed upon his weapon: A large hammer with shark skin wrapped around its head, quite abrasive and capable of shredding a man’s skin open upon contact. It was somewhat heavy, but a good choice for one of his strength and size, and he could wield it with little difficulty.
Lastly, he looked on his countenance. He was calm and collected; wise and rational.