The Flower's Grove

by Peekaboo

The Well

She refused to go. She’d cleaned up her mess and looked over to her bed to find it once again well made, her things neatly stacked upon the quilt. She brushed her things to the floor and crawled back into her bed, waiting for the dawn. She began counting seconds into hours, but no sign of the dawn came.

“You’re going to have to go eventually.” A voice croaked. Winterwoods nearly jumped out of her fur and looked around her room.

“Who said that?” she asked the darkness.

“That would be me.” The voiced shot out again. From the corner. Her eyes widened as a sizeable raven gently hopped from the shadows and fluttered up onto her bed. He tottered over to her and continued, “Something has to be done about the mist.”

“That doesn’t mean that it has to be me to go out there. I'll go find help in the morning.” Winterwoods crossed her hooves and eyed the suspicious bird.

“I fear that morning won’t come until it is done.” The raven squawked, and picked at the bedspread for loose strings. “Somepony has to go into the woods.”

Winterwoods snorted at this. “And you want me to go; the one who is currently hallucinating about having a conversation with a bird. A bird who I just so happen to know shouldn’t be here, and who probably doesn’t even exist.” She chortled and rolled over with the covers above her head.

“Hey! All dreams speak the same language. And we are all trapped here unless something is done.” He exclaimed and pecked at the covers until she pulled them down. She stared intently at the intruding bird.

“All? Who counts as all exactly? Wait, you mean to say that we’re asleep right now? Like trapped in a dream?” Winterwoods asked.

“If that much wasn’t obvious already by now, yes, we are all trapped within a single dream. By all, I mean all the creatures that inhabit this wood, yourself included of course,” he crowed.

“I guess that makes sense. Maybe? But how do I know that you're not just another trick of this crazy nightmare?" She glared. "And even if you're not, I don’t want to go back out there anyway. Whatever it is that's out there… it really wants to hurt me.” She teared up a little. The raven hopped closer and nestled himself beside her, resting its head under her snout.

“Woodsy, please. I don't want you to be scared or hurt, but if you don’t go and fix this, none of us may ever wake up again. We’ll die this way. All of us.” He rasped in his coarse voice and added, “I’m scared to die.” Looking down at the face pleading up at her, she felt her heart ache. If this was another trick, it was very convincing. Winterwoods softly cried; this time less from fear, than from shame. For several moments, her hitching breaths and trembling sighs filled the dark corners of the room.

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking of anypony else. I didn't know you were all trapped in this horrible nightmare too.” She frowned and gently stroked the bird's dark feathers. “But I don’t think I can go back out there alone; I don’t even know why this is happening to me, to you, to our woods, of all places. What can I do to stop this?” Getting up off the bed, Winterwoods went to the window and looked out over the looming forest. It was definitely still misty. “I don’t think it’s something I can do by myself.” she added.

The bird nodded understandingly. “My mother used to have a saying about things like this: The times we shine the brightest are the times we must walk alone through the darkness.” The raven said as comfortingly as his rough voice could allow. “I’m sorry that all this lays at your feet, I wish there was more I could do to help you, but… well, right now you’re the only light I see in this darkness.”

Winterwoods turned towards the bird. She should have been terrified of its very presence, but she was honestly just glad for someone to talk to. She couldn’t be certain that it wasn’t just another trick, but the raven appeared to be right. Dawn did not seem to be coming, and something had to happen. With a heavy sigh, Winterwoods turned towards the things she’d dumped onto the floor. She put on her shawl and satchel, and glanced briefly into her bedroom mirror. She looked awful, like she hadn’t slept in months. How ironic.

“Okay. I’m going out there.” She said flatly to the stately bird on her bed. It nodded. “No chance you’d know where exactly I need to be going?” she pleaded. If the bird could frown, she sensed it would have.

“Alas, no.” it cawed. “These woods are different from those in the waking world; I couldn’t even tell you where I make my home anymore. Every time you ‘wake up’, these woods are different. It was luck that I found you at all...” it added sadly.

“Maybe you could come with me, be a second set of eyes.” Winterwoods suggested, but the bird shook its head.

“I’m afraid I’d be no use in that manner either. These dream woods separate those who walk its paths. I… I lost my wife in just that way on our way here… I can try to be of more help if I wait here, I can't if I become lost. But you must be the one to go out. All the creatures can feel it; the forest is calling out to you.” The raven flew from the bed and landed on Winterwood’s back.

“Please, I know it’s a lot to ask, but go out there. Please. Wake us up,” it pleaded. Winterwoods nodded sadly, and walked down the stairs, bird in tow.

The door clicked shut behind her, and once again Winterwoods stood staring out at the trees from her front door. She had a little comfort in not being completely alone for the moment. But the mist had grown into a thick fog. She knew it was going to be easy to get turned around in that.

She took a moment and sniffed at the air. The sweet scent was back yet again, thicker than ever before. It was like a desperate wish of comfort in an unhappy time. The raven hopped down from her back and onto a nearly chopping log.

“Are you ready for this?” it asked.

“I haven’t exactly had good experiences out there. So no, not really.” She looked to the raven who tilted his head and puffed his feathers for warmth. "But I'll go."

“I’ll be right here when you get back.” It ushered her to go with its wings.

At a much less confident pace than the time before, she made her way to the forest’s edge. The shrubbery and brush was back in full swing. Much of it was overgrown into a sharp bramble that became increasingly hard to navigate. The fog was no help in this, combining with the branches, it became very hard to see. The only constant was the view of the trees looming above. They towered much taller than she remembered, and as she pushed her way through the rough foliage she realized that the further she went, the more lost she became.

With a deep breath, she pressed on until she found her way into a clearing. Only then did Winterwoods notice all the little cuts that had torn through her shawl and lacerated her body. Some of them were bleeding a little, and they were beginning to sting, but it was nothing she hadn’t lived through before. Pressing forward again, the fog became even denser in the clearing than it was in the bramble. Barely able to see her hoof in front of her face, Winterwoods stepped gingerly to ensure she didn’t trip. The clearing seemed to go on forever. Daring a glance behind her, she found nothing visible or familiar. Her only choice was to walk as straight as she could possibly manage to try to and find the edge, and work from there.

After she'd walked a while longer, every step she took felt a little colder. She noticed that the ground was frosting up the farther forward she went. Making no attempt this time to hide her fear, she found herself panting heavily, waiting for something to reach out and grab her. Instead, of all things, she tripped.

She tripped over a shallow wall of stones and was falling, deeper and deeper into what appeared to be a well. Flailing wildly, she smacked her hoof harshly against the side, causing an awful pain to shoot up her leg. But in doing so, she managed to flip herself around to see the light of the mist above get farther and farther away. And worse, that monster was peering down the hole at her, it's dead, empty eyes piercing into her no matter how far she fell.

She hit water. Everything around her was black; even the light from the top of the well was gone. She was floating through nothingness, desperately trying to find the surface. The sound of static washed into her ears again, but this time it was accompanied by that slow, awful sound of dripping water. Her breath finally giving out in a weak blast of bubbles, Winterwoods once again heard the angry voices from before as she choked for air. Every word reverberated in the water and she felt each syllable right to her very core.

“It doesn’t have to be this way… I don’t want to be the bad pony. I don’t want to be a villain. Despite my anger, and against my better judgement, I decided to ask this of you cordially. I just want what is rightfully mine! Will you not give even that to me?” said an angry voice.

“What you want is madness. I cannot allow you to do this; you’ll put others at risk for the sake of your own pride!” The second, softer voice spoke firmly.

“Madness? MADNESS?! What is madness is how much everypony simply adores you! You have done NOTHING worthy of the honor you receive from them! All I ask is recognition for the hard work I do, for the same love you receive for nothing at all!” the first voice shouted.

“You must calm yourself! Your hunger for attention has gone far enough! Your threats and hatred have gone beyond harming just yourself, and I cannot abide by this any longer. I rule over you AND YOU WILL LISTEN TO ME!” the second voice, having finally lost its temper, returned a verbal blow.

“No.” the first voice hardened into a tone beyond anger.

“What?” the softer voice spat.

“No. No more threats, no more pleading. This is what has gone on long enough. This time, you have truly gone too far. If you will not accept me as an equal, then perhaps you’ll accept me as your enemy.” The first voice maintained its new, frightening tone and was dictated with a coldness that licked like frostfire on the ears.

“Wait, what are you doing? NO! Stop!” the softer voice shrieked as Winterwoods faded out.

Winterwoods jolted awake with her heart pounding in her chest. Sitting up, she trembled in the darkness of her room, unsure of the questionable fear that pricked at every ounce of her body. Something was terribly wrong. It was still very dark out; and was long before dawn she guessed. Her room was silent and still.

“What happened?”

Startled, Winterwoods yelped and nearly fell out of her bed.

The bird sat upon her bedpost in a puffed, worried stance. The air was chilled and the presence of the world felt heavier than ever before.

Author's Note:

Okay, so I'm really gunning to get this story finished, as there's only a few chapters left to tell. So there's likely a bunch of errors in this, but it gets the story out.
Again, it definitely needs to be edited, but it'll get there when it'll get there.
Feedback is 1000% wanted. Please.

Comments

[Peekaboo]

By the way people, in the case that you figure out exactly what is happening before someone else reads it, which is highly possible since I've gotten pretty obvious about some things, please no spoilers!

[PioneeringAuthor]

Actually, you have very good grammar! Don't worry too much. I only found a few minor things:

The fog was no help in this, combining with the branches, it became very hard to see.

Try putting "and" between "this" and "combining," to make the transition smoother.

With a deep breath she pressed on until she found her way into a clearing.

After "breath" put a comma, because this is the end of a prepositional phrase.

“No.” the first voice hardened into a tone beyond anger.

Instead of a period, use a comma after "No," because the words come before the indication of who is speaking.

As for the story itself, once again you have captured the serious atmosphere, and it certainly is quite a mystery! Keep writing!