Work Text:
They start, as most things do, as a young thing. Though they don’t really remember this time. No, their awareness of themselves came much later when they had grown into a large tree with knotted roots. They had barely any awareness then. All they knew was that they held something rare and precious cradled in their roots.
They didn’t know what it was at first, only that when curious creatures tried to use the space between their roots as a den, the creatures wouldn’t come out.
And occasionally, very rarely, something came out. Strange things came out. Things that they weren’t sure belonged to this world.
Then someone came to them, named them. Though they don’t remember what this first name was, it was so long ago. But from here awareness grew.
They had many names, but always they were a Mother, a giver of life.
From the people that came to them, they knew they were different then other trees. They were larger, they never shed their leaves, and there was a presence about them that seemed to call to people.
Then the worship started. And, oh, what a glorious time it was. They felt so strong then. Belief… belief was such a wonderful thing.
But belief is a coin with two sides. For if there is something offering protection then there must be something to be protected from. And they are not the only one affected by belief.
From the space between their roots, creatures start to emerge. Not the peaceable ones from before, but ones the humans called monsters, ones that hunted, ones that killed.
People will do anything to be protected. Give up anything to the one they believe protects them.
And so, children were given to them, their little bodies killed and laid at their roots. They cradled the children’s spirits to themselves. It made them stronger. It gave them strength, these spirits of the young, the innocent, the vulnerable. And if something was bad enough to sacrifice children in order to protect the village, then that something must be really bad indeed.
And so more monsters came. The monsters grew larger, fiercer, more violent. But so did they, they who would become the Forest, the one who would wear many names, grew stronger with belief, with the spirits of the children.
One tree becomes a cluster that grows into a grove. And so they grow stronger and larger. But the veil stretches with them. The Doorway remains at their center, but the veil is thin at every point they touch.
Though they love their power growing outward, encompassing more land, they need more energy, more sacrifices to maintain their hold over the veil. But the people who sacrificed to them are long dead. How will they gather more children?
They observe the things that leave the veil, they are mostly harmless wisps of energy now, the monsters have faded back into the depths of the Otherside now that no one fears what may come out.
They take inspiration and pull from the energy of the Otherside, or the Myrkr as some humans have called it. They create wisps of energy, little lights for children to follow, to entice them to step into their warm embrace. Children are always curious, they get lost, they die.
They don’t need many children, just a few, because without people to believe that the Forest protects them from something, the monsters no longer press at the veil. A few peaceful beings come through again like they did in the beginning.
But the Forest begins to fear what will happen if the monsters come back. Should they not focus on gathering children now to prepare for when the monsters come back? Surely it will be better to gather them now then to wait for when danger is already passing through the veil.
They perfect their technique as stories of things in the forest grow, stories of fae that steal children away, of faerie circles, of will-o'-the-wisps. But just as these stories, this belief, influence the Forest, they influence the creatures on the other side of the veil. Those that come through are sly and almost human in appearance, except for the eyes. They trick people into coming into the forest, into stepping through the Doorway. The Forest doesn’t know what happens to those who go through the Doorway.
But they don’t like that the Other are taking it’s humans. So they resolve to grow stronger. More children are devoured to keep it strong.
But belief in protection and belief in what you need to be protected from go hand in hand, and as the Forest grows stronger, so does something on the other side. For what is a great protector without someone equally great to battle against? That is what all their stories are full of, after all. Hero vs villain.
And a beast does come through, a mixture of beliefs, monstrous and sly and powerful and evil.
They call him Pariah for he feeds on the Other to gain strength, he attacks the world and the Forest fears that the people's belief in them will ebb so they try to fight, to hold back the veil. They pull from their children, they bring in more children, they try to hold the monsters within their borders.
But Pariah is strong. He is destroying much, so the Forest imbues their spirits with a bit of strength and sends them off to fight Pariah. Many fall. They send more, and finally when they have sent out enough spirits to surround him, they use their connection to the spirits to take him down. They command the spirits to take hold of him, and as the Forest pulls from their children, they pull from Pariah too. He fights and many spirits die, but they have been growing their collection of spirits. And so they have many. Several distract the monsters and so die, while the others focus on Pariah.
Finally the Forest has pulled enough energy from him that he is weak, and the remaining spirits can drag him back.
They have the spirits take him into their depths, into the very center of the Forest, where the tree with the door still stands.
They wrap him in the roots of the center tree, where they can continue to drain him of energy, and then they end the spirits so no one will know where he is.
But as ages pass and the world turns to science, few are left who believe in other worlds. So they let a few more monsters through, feed the myths, take a few children here and there, just enough to keep their hold over the veil.
They call to their children with their melody. But it is during the age of belief in the Fae that one of the Other comes through and puts words to the Forest’s melody. It is then that parents take up the song and sing it to their children, a lullaby and a warning.
The Forest sings it to the children now, whispers in their dreams, a tune they can barely hear, a melody they can barely remember when they wake up, but it calls to them. It calls them to the Forest.
Years pass, strange people come, look around, explore the Forest’s depths. One of them doesn’t make it out.
And still they sing out to the children.
Be careful little children where you lay
your little heads to rest tonight
For in the forest of deep sleep
Where dreams come true and nightmares too
There lies a darkness great and deep
And who shall live and who shall die
Well that is for the forest to decide
For nightmares prowl the woods tonight
With claws and teeth and fearsome growls
Come little children take just a peek
come rest in forest’s deep embrace
And fall into eternal sleep
To keep the veil a child must die
Conquer the king or all will die