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Thomas Oliver

The Quest For Light

The Quest For Light

 

 

The rain fell so heavily that Jacobs trench coat had been soaked through in less than 30 seconds. 

 

The leather had been surprisingly unresistant to water, now his shirt stuck to his chest, his scars visible through the fabric.

 

He had now been in the forest for thirty minutes and there wasn’t an inch of him that wasn’t wet. His boots made a squelching sound each time he took a step, and sunk into the mud which made it increasingly difficult to keep moving forward.

 

Because Jacob was at the bottom of the valley, water would slide down from the hills, and collect where he stood. Large pools appeared in which which Jacobs feet would often slip into for water to creep into his black shoes. 

 

The forest was so dark that Jacob could barely see where he was going, not even the moon was there to guide him anymore. The sky was barely visible, the gigantic trees blocking Jacob’s sight, looming over him and collecting large drops of water that would land on Jacob's head, and then trickle down his back. 

 

The cold bit at his ears and nose and numbed his toes and fingers.

 

Jacob’s legs were so tired, he stumbled and fell against the trees every few minutes. His hands clawed at the tree bark, and the bark cut and grazed his hands. Jacob then had to stop and wait for a while trying to regain the strength he spent on trying to stay up. Eventually, he knew he would fall and never get up again. 

 

But he couldn’t, he knew that. He knew the light was somewhere at the end of this forest of darkness. In his mind’s eye, he saw the light. It shimmered and pulsed with beauty and elegance, a higher power, able to grant him anything, even a lost friend. 

 

With new vigor, Jacob pushed forward as thorns snagged at his trench coat. Since he didn’t stop to remove them gingerly, they ripped at the coat, leaving the bottom in tattered ribbons. It was like hands were tugging at him, weighing him down and pulling him into the darkness. 

 

I can’t stop. Jacob thought, terrified that if he stopped, he wouldn’t be able to push forward.

Jacob’s legs and arms were screaming at him. It felt like liquid fire gushed through his veins, but he willed his limbs to move, trying his best to separate his mind from his body. 

 

The rain intensified and it drummed on his head and shoulders. Water now ran down his face, filling his nostrils and flowing into his mouth. 

 

Jacob’s hands would fly to his face as his long hair stuck to his forehead, and poked at his eyes. Making it even harder to see.

 

The ground had begun to get softer now, and his boots sank into the ground. He felt as though the mud was creeping up his legs, as it got harder and harder to move. It now took tremendous effort to dislodge one of his boots from the ground. 

 

As he ripped his foot from the mud he lost his balance, and tumbled to the ground. 

 

He was on his back, and mud clung to his limbs like a child clinging to his mother, as she was taken away from him. His legs and one of his arms were completely submerged in the ground and as he tried to lift them up he only pushed his back deeper into the mud. 

 

Jacob’s heart ached, as he began to struggle, desperate to get out. 

 

The rain still fell heavily, and it poured into his mouth as he gasped for air. 

 

With his free hand, Jacob reached for the root of a nearby tree, his fingers grazing the root hysterically. The more his fingers failed to grasp the root the more Jacob’s gut wrenching panic turned into frustration, which then turned into a blinding rage, which ran hot through Jacob’s mind. 

 

Jacob let his anger out in a roar which cut through the forest like a razor, and left animals of the forest speechless. Even the wolves dared not howl. 

 

On his back, Jacob watched the trees above sway in the rain. It was beginning to get slightly  lighter now, he could see spots of deep blue penetrating the sea of darkness above him. As he breathed in deeply, the rain pattered on his chest and rolled to the ground. He still made small attempts at moving, but he was simply too tired. His body ached, and he had cuts covering him like spiders creeping across his body. 

 

As Jacob lay in the mud he had begun to realize that lying in there was very comfortable, the mud hugged his body and coaxed him into contemptment. Maybe I can lie here Jacob thought Maybe I can rest here to finally be at peace.

 

Jacob started to slip into sleep, to finally rest for the first time in weeks, when something coiled itself around his hand.

 

Jacob swore as he was yanked out of the ground with swift force. He felt a sharp pain in his thigh as he flew three meters and then tumbled to the ground, holding his arms to his chest to avoid snapping them. 

 

When Jacob came to a halt and groaned, feeling his leg tenderly with his hands. He swerved his neck around to look at the hole he had been ripped from. The mud had already begun to settle as the root of a tree gradually pulled its great root back into the ground. 

 

Jacob sat there, stunned and confused. He wondered what had happened, if perhaps, the gods had given him another chance but surely, he had not just been thrown by a tree like he was a pebble?

 

His leg felt sore, and it was painful to move it.  

 

The rain had stopped now, and although the ground was still dangerously slippery, Jacob felt a sense of relief and freedom as he gazed to the blue sky and took a deep breath of the cool air.

The sun’s light danced at the horizon, bathing the forest in gold and casting shadows behind the trees. 

 

Jacob rose steadily, his muscles aching and his bones creaking as he balanced himself on one leg.

 

Jacob felt a strange sense of contemptment, as he hobbled towards the sun. There was no doubt in his mind that he would do anything to face his destiny, anything to mend his broken soul.




Envoyé: 11:41 Tue, 14 March 2023 par: Thomas Oliver