These woods were a sanctuary, a refuge, a haven where Sarce could rest and ponder upon the dark thoughts that circled his mind, corrupting him and slowly weakening his soul for the final attack. The arched treetops that blocked the blinding sunlight were a shelter, the thick trunks of the trees, acting as props in the stage that was his asylum.
The very woods were a safe haven, in which his disturbances were few and meaningless. He felt alone and yet he refused to travel to the villages and towns that encircled these woods. He wanted to be free from the sense of misplacement, the feeling of depression and loneliness that only he could feel. He longed for company yet he could never bond.
The bitter cold winds that brushed past his face were but annoyances in his state of meditation, free from the dark emotions that the mortals suffered with, free from the knowledge of his being alone and free from the Darkness that was leaking into his mind, his soul and his every limb, preparing for the final passage into eternal Darkness.
As he sat in the centre of the woods, surrounded by trees, leaves and broken branches, he watched a point that failed to exist, almost as if he were looking into a parallel reality, watching his own life in this reality. He knew such things were not possible and he quickly shrugged the thoughts from his mind, trying to refocus on returning to the Light. He had never seen the Light and hoped this would be the day, sitting alone; it would come to him and lead him away from the suffering and misery that came with this world.
He could hear the howling winds beating against the trees, the leaves rustling as the winds slid through the miniscule gaps that it revealed and he heard the sound of the mud being tossed into the air as the winds swirled and turned. It was almost perfect, the tranquil sounds that came with the woods, the beautiful setting and the knowledge that he was free from the dark thoughts for now, it was almost perfect. Almost.
There was but one thing he longed for in this world, he did not long to be free from the thoughts, he could handle those if he tried, he was fine with the Darkness that corrupted him, what he truly wanted, was a companion. He wanted someone who understood him, who cared for him and wanted to be with him. He would never be given his wish. It wasn’t in his nature.
A tear slowly fell from his eye, dying on his lips as he lifted his head high into the air, looking towards the heavens, almost pleading for freedom. He clasped his hands together, wishing for a companion, someone to find him and take pity on his soul. It was useless, he had tried every day for many weeks and it was to no avail, why would today be different?
He quickly ended the pleas of freedom and companionship, lifting his self-pitying body upwards and walked towards a large tree that was settled towards the left of him and leaned against it, watching the marks where he had sat slowly being covered in mud and leaves as the wind blew. It was ironic, the very knowledge that he existed being destroyed after his pleas for companionship. Such irony. He submitted, wanting to end the torture.
These woods were foreign. The brilliant colors, the exotic plant life, everything was a stranger to Aloric. The very title given to this place - the Mystic Wood - spoke of magic, charm, and fantasy. All concepts that weren't in Aloric's repertoire of knowledge. Everything in here spoke of uncertainty and impossibility. The question presented itself as to why Aloric would be in a place that went against everything he had ever been comfortable with. And it would be a question difficult to answer.
The truth of the matter is that next to none of Aloric's wanderings and journeys make any sense. At least, not until the conclusion of the journey is taken into account: not so much the expected result of the trip, but rather the one that actually occurs. If the ranger had learned one thing through his experiences, it would be that nothing ever goes as planned. This sometimes worked to his advantage, utilizing his seemingly random wanderings to make a wholesome experience that he could benefit from. It sometimes worked against him, bringing pain and sorrow into his already miniscule life.
Whether or not a journey would work out was essentially a crapshoot. Though he held no belief in any deities of Arda, he knew there was something other than he that was pulling the strings, deciding fates and cursing lives. What other explanation could there be for all he had gone through? He enjoyed the luxury of free will, but he did not hold the key to his own fate. That was left in the hands of someone more competent. And rightly so.
The ranger could not be trusted to work everything out by himself. Even he had realized this. He had had the wisdom to aquire a mentor some years ago, the wise man Paliath who dwelt in the tallest peaks of the Ered Annon mountain range. Paliath could be construed as Aloric's only true friend, but even then the relationship was one-sided. Paliath poured into the younger man's life, giving him words of wisdom and enough strength to carry on, but the student was nothing but a burden to the elder. Aloric had never confronted his mentor about such things, but he was quite sure that the wise man had observed it himself, and only continued to help Aloric because he simply had nothing better to do.
But why was he here now, in the Mystic Woods? The forest was placed well outside all the major cities and civilizations of the realm, secluded to the south of the Salqeudor Grasslands. Nothing of interest was down this way save for the woods itself, which meant Aloric wasn't just passing through. He had had to go out of his way in order get to this place, and that meant he had a reason for being here. The answer to this question, only the ranger knew.
The woods were a flurry of life. It amazed him how such a distant place could have so much going on. It was a wonder he had never been here before. He wasn't sure whether or not he was enjoying himself as he entered into the fantasy that was the forest. He would have to give himself time to figure that out. The faeries - creatures completely new to Aloric - were out and about in droves, swarming through the place and creating a buzzing sound that somehow gave the ranger peace. Beams of light descended down from above. The forest floor revealed toads and furry beasts roaming around, adding to the complex environment. "There is more life here than in any city or town I have ever been to," he mused. "This trip has not been in vain."
Sarce’s pitiful attempt at submitting to the higher beings that watched over these lands, creating destinies, fulfilling the lives of those who searched for meaning. He was on his knees, the dark, black material being covered in the brown, dusty mud that settled upon the ground, his head lifted up into the skies, almost begging for an answer, a calling. He knew that his pleas would not be heard, the heavenly beings that loomed over this land would never answer him, nor would they listen, all that Sarce wanted was to be heard.
After seconds, minutes, even hours of settling upon the ground, bowing to the higher beings, he knew that it would do no good, his pleas would not be heard and thus he decided to stand and look proud, these lands had an almost mystical look about them and he did not want to seem unhappy or depressed, even though he knew he wasn’t being watched. It was more for show, appearance was seemingly everything in this world.
He was stiff, his muscles had settled into that submissive position and longed to be stretched, his neck strained as he flicked his head backwards, towards the south of the woods, his short, brown hair flowing in the motion. He swung his arms to and fro, walking in circles, trying to shift the aching pain that came with settling in a position for a time that he did not know, it was a long period, he knew that much.
As per usual, Sarce allowed his wings the freedom to feel the cool breeze that flowed through the treetops and across the beautiful setting that he was in, his cloak rustling as his wings slipped from his back and stretched across the might of their wing span. As he felt his wings beating, trying to regain the feeling in them, he felt a sudden loneliness, a sudden flush of sudden emotion sweeping over him. Depression, loneliness and pain all seeping slowly into his soul, weakening him as he stooped against a tree, leaning against it as support.
He wondered why this sudden burst of emotion had overcame him. It was as though the higher beings were cursing him, making him suffer for that he had done in this world. He felt bitter and in spite of those that settling in the Heavens above, wishing that he were there, living comfortable amongst those that were like him, like his friends.
Friends. He longed for but one friend, a companion to accompany him on his almost random wanderings, though these wanderings always lured him to wooded areas, whether they may be rainforests or woods, he would always settle in these places. He longed for a friend to speak to, to understand him and to comfort him in his times of need.
He cursed under his breath, wishing that he had what so many of those that lived in the towns and cities had. Those people had friendship, freedom, love, amusement. He had nothing. He had but his own thoughts, his bitter and dark soul constantly luring him into a sense of false security, it was pathetic and Sarce knew it. Yet he couldn’t do anything about it.
Instead of feeling depressed, Sarce decided to wander these unfamiliar lands, to seek a shelter of some sort and some food, though he did not either, it was simply for comfort. He needed to gain his bearings and to find someone, something would be with him for the duration of his travels, whether his needs would come true, he doubted it.