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Run deeper, run deeper into the Wood
Where the thorns scratch and bite
Wouldn’t you like to get lost in the Wood
Where the witch lives in moonlight
He feasts on bones and blood and fear
But he can lift your curse
So listen to your mother dear
And hope he doesn’t do worse
Yeong-Ho pulls the collar of their cloak higher against their neck and glares at the soft snowflakes that float down from the sky. They can’t help but think that the end of October is far too early for the snow to start; the harvest fete has only just passed, and the leaves that crunch under their boots speak of autumn, not winter. But there is no denying the ice that has settled deep within their bones. Their body aches from tensing against the cold, and as they push their hands deeper into their pockets, they wish that they had thought to bring their mittens along for the journey. They’re nice mittens, butter yellow, and Yeong-Ho had knit them themself between shifts bussing tables at the local tavern. A little extra warmth would be appreciated as they trek into the depths of the forest.
As they make their way, their breath plumes in front of their face in short bursts, condensation clinging to their crystal eye, causing them to wipe it clear every few minutes. Their pack feels heavier than it did just an hour ago, the food and necessities that their grandmother had loaded them up with causing the strap to dig into their shoulder. Yeong-Ho longs for a break, but a quick look behind them reveals that the fog is still nipping at their heels, persistent as always. They know that if they stood still, it would slowly rise until it blocked their sight and they would be stranded in the woods until it decided to recede. They pick up their pace, unwilling to risk getting lost in the forest.
Yeong-Ho can barely remember a time before the fog, but they know it had existed once upon a time. The curse hadn’t appeared until the night before their tenth birthday. It was gentle at first. They remember that in the beginning, there was only the occasional wisp of something in the corner of their eye upon waking, and the feeling of a dream slipping through their fingers. It was almost comforting, something to watch over them as they slept. But as they got older, not a morning went by without their room looking like the inside of a cloud upon waking. Yeong-Ho found themself jolting awake with terror’s fingers gripped tight around their heart and the fog closing in on them from all sides. It was harder and harder to pretend that everything was okay, that the fog was just a quirk of life, rather than the curse it was. When the fog began to follow them during the day, they spent most of their energy trying to keep one step ahead of it. The townsfolk frequently whispered of the young Yeong-Ho’s curse and warned their children away from them, lest they end up in a similar predicament. Yeong-Ho didn’t think you could catch a curse like a common cold, but it was hard to say. Magic works in mysterious ways and few can claim that they know much about it at all.
Which is how they find themself trudging through the forest, searching for a witch who may or may not even exist. All Yeong-Ho has to go off of is a children’s nursery rhyme and the whispered rumors of the townsfolk who claim that a witch lives in the deepest part of the forest. The witch is said to feast on the bones of children, but is a skilled magic-user, capable of bringing the dead back to life and breaking the most unruly of curses. He is known for being capricious, but if you catch him on a good day, he can change your life with a wave of his hand.
Of course, no one can claim to have ever seen the witch. Occasionally, someone will journey into the forest to find him, hoping to prove his existence once and for all, but they always seem to wander back into town days later, confused and missing memories of their time spent among the trees. The townsfolk typically consider this proof that the witch exists.
Yeong-Ho isn’t so sure, and as they travel further and further into the forest with no sign of the witch or anyone for that matter, their doubt only increases.
They could turn around, and they know that their grandmother would welcome them back, but her worry and disappointment to see that the curse hadn’t been lifted would be heartbreaking. No one could say whether the fate the clinging fog had for them could really be worse than starving to death in the forest, cold and alone. Their body probably wouldn’t even be found until spring. It seems like a gruesome way to go.
So they continue on, fog forever following behind.
Yeong-Ho begins to wonder whether they would be walking forever until suddenly, there is a sound of something other than their breath panting or the snow and leaves crunching under their boots. A faint tinkling noise, like windchimes, echoes off in the distance. Suddenly feeling a hope that they haven’t felt the entire time they’ve been on this journey, Yeong-Ho picks up the pace.
Yeong-Ho scans the canopy above for any sign of the chimes, trying to listen carefully and let the sound guide them towards it. In the end it’s the sunlight glinting off the smooth metal that catches their eye, and they spot the windchimes hanging lonely amongst the tree branches. Directly below the chimes however, a crow sits at the base of the tree, its pitch black feathers standing out against the slowly accumulating snow. As Yeong-Ho gets closer, the crow meets their eyes and stands, as if it had been waiting for them the whole time.
“Oh, hello there. Who are you?” Rumors about animals who are more than they seem were not uncommon within town, and Yeong-Ho wonders if this crow was perhaps a witch’s familiar. If they’re lucky, it could be the familiar of the very witch they sought.
The crow lets out a caw and flies a few feet further into the forest, landing on the snow and looking at Yeong-Ho expectantly.
“Do you want me to follow you?” Gods, Yeong-Ho really hopes this isn’t just a normal crow.
But the crow cocks its head, flies back to its previous place under the chimes and then takes off again to where it had stopped. The message seems clear: Follow .
This may be their lucky break towards finding the witch. Yeong-Ho can’t help but feel excitement well up in their chest, and following the crow certainly seems like the better option over just wandering aimlessly, hoping to come across a witch’s house. So Yeong-Ho takes off after it.
This goes on for quite a while, with the crow pausing to make sure Yeong-Ho is still following, and Yeong-Ho grateful for having some sort of guide as the sun sinks lower in the sky and darkness slowly encroaches. When a cabin reveals itself through a clearing through the trees, windows glowing warm from the hearth inside, Yeong-Ho can’t help the joyful laughter that bubbles up their throat.
Yeong-Ho races after the crow into the clearing, any warnings about the witch fleeing their mind. The crow slows its flight and lands just outside the front door of the cabin, Yeong-Ho just behind. The crow raises its beak and knocks on the door with a solid peck-peck.
There’s a moment of silence before a flurry of movement can be heard through the door, objects hitting the floor and a shout. “One moment!”
Yeong-Ho can’t possibly imagine what would make that much noise, but if a witch tells them to wait, then they’ll wait. They just hope that the witch doesn’t take long enough that the trailing fog begins to overtake them again.
Just as they begin to watch the fog creep into the clearing, the front door swings open with a BANG!
The commotion startles the crow, causing it to fly up and perch on Yeong-Ho’s shoulder. Once their vision clears of feathers however, their eyes land on a smiling creature like they’ve never seen before. It has a round, bulbous head and seems to propel itself on several…arms? Yeong-Ho isn’t sure if that’s the right word.
“Hi! I’m Inky! What are you doing all the way out here?” The little creature notices the crow perched on Yeong-Ho’s shoulder, “Oh, and you brought a friend!”
Nothing about this interaction is how Yeong-Ho pictured this going in their head. Their words sound just as uncertain as they are when they say, “Um, I’m Yeong-Ho Garcia and I have a curse that I’d like to be fixed. Are you the witch?”
Inky’s eyes grow wide as they notice the encroaching fog for the first time. “Oh, that looks like a nasty thing. Hold on a moment.” They wave a tentacle in the direction of the fog and a sea breeze seems to emanate from the sweeping of their arm. The fog is battered back to the edge of the clearing where it begins to pace like a dog. Yeong-Ho can’t help but to gape.
“That’ll be better for a little bit,” Inky says, “But no! Alf’s not home right now! I’m not the witch, but you can come inside and wait for him if you want! Bring your familiar!”
Before Yeong-Ho can get a word out, Inky is sweeping back into the cabin, arms and legs already reaching ahead to clear a seat where Yeong-Ho may sit. With no other choice, they follow the strange creature inside.