Story 3: Hazelwood
Hazelwood is a small town. Hardly anyone has visited it in recent memory, and that's probably for the best.
Hazelwood sits in the middle of the Roshire mountains with most roads leading to it in rubble. The woods surrounding it are thick, and the terrain is treacherous. Not many could just happen upon it, except for Ethan.
Today marks the fourth anniversary of Ethan's first steps into the wilderness. Favoring adventure over the comfortable life he used to live, Ethan's latest adventure has him more worn than usual. His legs are like lead, and his backpack is a boulder on his shoulders. Despite his fatigue, he soldiers on, marching through the underbrush and up the rocks of the increasingly steep terrain. He hikes until he reaches a vista under a birch tree. Taking his bag off, he sets it down, then sits against the tree, grabs a book and a pencil, and begins to sketch the view before him.
The hills are verdant, the rivers sapphire, and the mist in the distance a light periwinkle. It's almost perfect. Almost. Ethan turns the pages, flipping to the beginning of the sketchbook, and he stares at the first page.
Ethan slams his book shut. Storing the book away, he picks up his backpack and continues on his hike.
It took another two hours to reach Hazelwood. Its streets were clean, lined with Colonial and Georgian buildings, with a park capping the end of the streets. Ethan was walking on Main Street, passing shops and businesses. He made his way into a café named Cup O' Som. As he entered, he caught the interest of a few customers who were talking in hushed tones while staring at him. He marched to the counter and was greeted by a barista whose nametag read Adam.
"Hello there. What can I get for you?" Adam said in a customer service voice.
"I'll take a cappuccino and a pain au chocolat."
"That'll be $6.53," Ethan dug out his wallet and put money on the countertop as Adam rang up the order.
"Also, do you know where an inn or hotel might be? My phone broke, so I can't look for one," Ethan asked.
"No. The only inn in town has been closed for a few years now. Not enough visitors, you know," Adam said, handing Ethan the receipt and change. He began getting the order ready, and Ethan sat at a nearby booth. Setting his bag next to him, he grabbed his sketchbook and stared at the first page.
"I think I've seen her before," Adam's voice startled Ethan, who quickly shut the book. "Here's your chocolate croissant and cappuccino." With that, Adam set the food and drink on the table and went back to the counter.
Ethan began to enjoy his small meal, and with a light grin, he reopened his book and fetched his pencil sketching his view out the window. It took 30 minutes to finish his drawing but when he did he grabbed his bag and left a tip.
Since there was nowhere to stay, Ethan decided to camp just outside the town limits. It wasn't difficult finding a level clearing to pitch his tent and make a fire pit. Having left his pack in the tent, he armed himself with a hatchet to search for firewood. The trees around him rustled with the light breeze that had a slight nip.
After finding the necessary firewood, Ethan transformed a spark into a roaring inferno whose flames licked the sides of a pot boiling the contents and making soup. Eating the bland soup, Ethan stared into the flames, his eyes like coal, as he grabbed his book and pencil. His worn hands guided the tool with precision and skill.
Her eyes looked like memories; her hair was starlight, her jaw shared the appearance of joy, a nose stolen from laughter, and lips like entropy. "Almost," Ethan chuckled, shaking his head.
After dowsing the fire and embers, he climbed into his tent and slept.
When Ethan opened his eyes, he wasn't in his camp. The floor was hard and cold, but the air was soft and warm. Ethan stood and saw black tiles with starlight grout and nothingness in all directions. A small grin formed on his face as he took a step forward, then- "Damn it"- woke up in his tent.
Ethan spent the morning in a foul mood.
Getting ready for the day, Ethan noticed a trail of black iridescent ooze leading out of his tent. With a furrowed brow, he followed it, leading him through the trees, past brooks and burrows, and guiding him to a cave.
The cave was small, and Ethan could see a structure inside. It was adorned with lit candles and covered in opal lichen. Walking to it, all light began to die except for a small halo at the center of this shrine. The halo surrounded an amulet whose body was starlight, and its heart was an ebony void rippling with the iridescent light that brought him here.
Reaching out, Ethan grasped the amulet. The chain was like links of silk and the stone felt like cool velvet. The wind whispered in his ear, and Ethan obeyed. His vision pulsed with colors not meant for human eyes, and forms flickered, faded, then reformed into shapes that should bend and break minds. Ethan was fine, his brain steadfast and his soul hardy.
Incredible joy showed on Ethan's face, his nerves lighting up with happiness. He had found something akin to only one other thing in terms of perfection. The amulet pulsed, and Ethan calmed. Still smiling, he started to exit the cave. He could now see that the walls were painted with adventure and the floor with discovery. Once he was at the entrance, the amulet thrummed and lightly pulled him, directing him through the forest, which he could now see held the colors of wonder and struggle in its trees and grass. The soil was an intricate mix of life and death. The amulet showed him never-before-seen creatures, each more impossible than the last.
Ethan was guided to his camp by the amulet, which then directed him to his bag. The wind reached inside and gave him his sketchbook, but he had nothing to draw with. He didn't protest when the amulet directed him to journey toward Hazelwood.
As he walked down the town's main street, Ethan passed a group of cops surrounding the corpse of a twisted beast. Its colors were a mixture of humanity and madness, and its face belonged to Adam. Ethan paused, grimacing, and took a deep breath to steady himself. He resumed his journey. Following the amulet's desire, which led him past Cup O' Som. The café's front window was shattered, with tables and chairs in splinters and blood splattered everywhere. The café was stained with death.
Ethan's grimace only deepened as he marched forward into the park. The park was small, with neatly trimmed grass, a few atypical trees for the region, a fountain, and a gazebo.
As Ethan approached the gazebo, the air rippled and twisted, creating a desk, chair, and quill. All three were dripping with entropy. The amulet and wind urged Ethan to sit and open his sketchbook, and he complied.
The sun flickered.
Ethan's drawing from camp was soaked in a subtle but potent shade of obsession. The wind giggled at his over use of the color and began turning pages, eventually stopping at the first page. The first page contained a full-body portrait of the woman from the latest page, but with a complex color scheme.
Her eyes, hair, and lips all had the promised colors, but her skin was left untouched.
The wind and amulet hummed, telling Ethan that the skin needed to be filled with life.
Ethan took the quill in hand and felt an incredible pain originating from his hand and life began pooling at the tip of the quill. Nevertheless, he began to color, shade, and shadow. With his skill defying his tool, he finished the portrait. The sky laughed, the ground chuckled, and Ethan's world went black.
When Ethan's vision returned, he found himself in a void from his dreams. A path outlined by braziers lit with iridescent flame lies before him, leading to a large door. A look of contentment spread across Ethan's face as he walked toward it.
The amulet pulsed and Ethan's rugged and dirty outfit transformed into a suit of varying shades of red.
Upon opening the door, Ethan found himself in a large baroque ballroom where he saw the woman from his book standing alone in the center. She wore a dress made out of space and jewelry crafted from time, both were displeased with Euclidian forms.
Ethan's pace towards the woman was steady but filled with joy. Each step causing a small ripple in the ornate tiles and every stride taking an eternity. Nearing the woman he could feel concepts much grander than him radiating from her. He could see whisps of undiscovered emotions floating through the air, languishes yet to be felt, and happiness yet to be seen.
The woman smiled when Ethan reached her as if each step of his journey was an expedition up a mountain taller than Everest. She out stretched her hand to him and he reciprocated. Her hand scalded hotter than the sun yet Ethan was unharmed and unperturbed. Grasping each others hands a symphony began slow but as they circled one another both sped into a waltz, the music perfectly in sync with a perfect dance.