The Forest Deep
Part 1
For Menzo, morning came both too soon and not enough; his sleep had been fitful and rife with strange and unsettling dreams. He felt as though some strange force had sat on his chest throughout the night, leaving him short of breath. He seemed to recall people speaking loudly and banging on his cabin’s door on at least two occasions, but it all felt very distant.
Despite the exhaustion, he lay in near darkness staring up at the roughly hewn ceiling of his small cabin. His mind spun within a tangled web of the night’s dreams and of memories near and far. Time seemed to have ground to a halt. Frustrated and impatient at his inability to find any more rest, the archer jerked back the covers and, rolling sideways and upwards until his feet touched the ground, he groaned loudly as he yawned.
Within moments, he was up. He poured water into a chipped basin and splashed some on his face, shivering as cold droplets hit his shoulders and chest. It did little to chase away the images of bones, devoured remains and especially, Ceyda’s face from his mind and his fist fell hard upon the thick wood table. He hadn’t thought of her for weeks and today, half of his dreams had been about the forsaking girl’s face.
With determined motions, he dressed himself, seized his axe and maul and headed outside towards his chopping block. Grabbing the nearest piece of wood and positioning it with practiced ease, he grasped the maul’s handle and swung around and high, bringing the tool down with force. The wood splintered into two pieces, one piece of them flying satisfyingly outwards while the other simply teetered and fell. Grunting, he pulled the blade away and, setting a second piece on the block, he swung again. He kept at it until his shoulders felt a pleasant burn; despite the repetitive motions, the concentration required for this work kept his mind from seeking out somber thoughts.