In ancient times, gods walked the forests, and man existed in harmony with the natural world.
But then the Dark One came and brought chaos to the ancient forest. Most forgot the gods, but not all.
“It’s an early chill. Best bring in the harvest early this year,” Ayna told her husband.
Gojeck was a patient man. “The air feels warm. I want to give the pumpkins more time to fill out,” replied her husband.
“No, the old ones are stirring. Best to bring in the harvest and make our offerings,” Anya said.
Her husband’s face went white. “You think the Walker is about? How do you know?” asked Gojeck.
Anya explained that she had noticed the owls were jumpy the day before. That morning a hedgehog had almost run her over trying to get underground.
“It’s said when he walks the forest, the land is in great peril. I’ve heard no word of Mörken or his Troth devils,” said Gojeck.
“Husband, this is an old danger from the before time. The the long, long ago when demons and gods fought for control of the forest,” said the woman.
Neither spoke until Anya heard a sound outside. “Bolt the door and douse the light,” commanded Anya.
Quick as a whip, Goject slid the bolt with one hand and snuffed the candle with the other. Placing her finger to her lip, Anya signaled Gojeck to remain still.
“I know your step, old one. Leave this home untouched. We honor your teachings and hold the land sacred,” the woman said.
The air suddenly smelled of the forest after a rain. Then the wind stilled, and an owl called three times.
Anya walked to her husband and gripped his hand. She whispered, “He has left us, but the owl’s hoot means others will pass over this night.”
The two sat near the fire, fearing to relight the candles and draw attention to themselves. Dawn came at last, and the couple ventured out to see who the Walker had chosen.
“We should go see widow Barns. I fear she was one taken last night,” Anya said.
“Good morning. What brings you two to my doorstep?” the widow asked.
“Out enjoying the Autumn air and thought we would pay our respects,” Gojeck replied.
After a brief chat, the couple moved on down the road and stopped at Ned Thompson’s home.
“The door is open. We found the taken one,” Anya said.
Inside the dark room, Ned sat unmoving in his reading chair. Touching his forehead, Gojeck let out a long sigh.
“Cold. The Walker must have taken him after he passed us,” the man said.
Anya found bedding. Then she and Gojeck wrapped the body and placed it on the table. “I’ll get the candle, and you recite the prayer,” Gojeck told his wife.
They dug a shallow grave outside and carried the man to his final resting place. “I’ll have Malak carve a headpiece, and we can set it tomorrow,” Anya said.
“Does this mean the Walker will return to the deep wood?” the man asked.
“Husband, I can’t rightly say, but in times past there never was just one,” Anya said.
Walking home, Anya wondered aloud what could bring an ancient god out from its resting place. “I fear we will find out soon enough,” her husband answered.
Word spread of the Walker’s return, and the ancient forest grew cold in a way not seen for a very long time.
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