Chapter 1

“Don’t worry, we’re almost done.” Jacob’s mom called from the front door, a box of multi-colored pastels in hand. Jacob groaned as he carried yet another heavy box of his grandfather’s things down the creaky stairs. Jacob’s family had been tasked with emptying the house and moving everything into storage until the old man’s will could be processed by the state. All of this was not ok with the fourteen-year-old. He would much rather hang out with his friends than carry boxes of yellowed paper and mountains of ancient fountain pens. The month was June. Summer. Every kid was out in the sun, having fun running around, or indoors playing video games and gorging on snacks. 

He just had to pass right before school got out. Jacob thought, dropping the box of drawings in front of the door for his father to load in the truck. And he just had to live in freaking Alaska! The literal middle of nowhere. Jacob was never close to his grandfather. They only ever met once when he was a little kid. Back then, Abraham seemed like a gentle and loving character. But from what Jacob could gather from his mother, he grew sour with age and started to lash out bitterly at his daughters and friends. And now, here they were, cleaning his house, getting ready to sell it. Or tear it down, Jacob didn’t know. He didn’t care really. All he knew was that if someone was going to live here, they needed tolerance for dust and being alone. 

The house was isolated in the woods not far from the small town of Sitka. Jacob looked at the nearly endless stretch of trees and waves upon waves of mountain peaks. At least it’s nice up here. Relaxing. They drove up here. A several day trip that was supposed to be ‘fun.’ But all Jacob was getting out of this trip was hours of boredom and car sickness.

His train of thought was interrupted by his father. “Go ahead and check to see if we missed anything. It’ll be a while before I pack all of this stuff in anyways.” Steven, Jacob’s father, was a well-built man who’s helped friends move before, and had no problem assisting with the transitioning of his father-in-law’s belongings.

“Ok,” Jacob said. Grudgingly he trudged up the stairs. The second floor was the worst. Before his family took action, the place was covered with drawings, easels, paints, pencils, pens, and all sorts of other artist’s materials. Navigating it was a nightmare, like trying to organize grains of sand at a beach. It took nearly three days to get everything out of the second floor, much to Jacob’s dismay. The drawings weren’t even that good. Most of them were mere sketches of cartoon characters and scenes. He knew his grandfather was a cartoonist decades ago and tried to get back into it in his later years. From what he heard, though, directors didn’t see any more use with his old black and white cartoons. Everything was on computers now or digitally rendered with 3D software. As far as Jacob saw: his grandfather had never owned more technology than a landline.

Jacob rummaged through the rooms, seeing if any stray papers were lying around. Finally, he came across his grandfather’s studio. It was a sizable room with a circular, stained glass window overlooking the forest, contorting trees with wild colors and making their pines shimmer. When they first got here, it resembled more of a dump than a studio. But I guess that’s how he worked. Jacob moved around the desk and chair that sat in the center. Both of them were made of mahogany, handcrafted by some famous carpenter nobody knew about anymore. His parents decided that they should get experts to move them, holding them in storage containers. His mom was hoping to inherit it, as Abraham would let her draw on it when she was little. 

Being none too gentle, Jacob opened every drawer to see if there was anything they missed. None of the drawers held any secrets. No stash of jewels or lost treasure maps. Tired, Jacob sat down on the cushioned chair and propped his legs on the table. “Comfy.” He remarked. Looking out the stained glass window, he could imagine his grandfather working here for hours on end, drawing his life away. 

As he was about to get up, Jacob noticed something underneath the desk. It looked to be a small latch, tucked away in the corner. It was so tiny, painted to match the wood around it. Curious, Jacob reached a hand back and undid the lock.

A *thunk* came from the front of the desk. Moving around, Jacob saw that a section of the desk fell open, revealing a secret compartment. Inside was a book. It was the most massive book he had ever seen. Nearly twice as thick as his arms, the binding looked to be black leather and had rivets and strands made of silver and bronze. Curiosity growing, Jacob hefted the book out of its hiding place and laid it on the desk. No dust layered the cover. Though the paper seemed to yellow with age and tears could be seen, the pages looked durable. There was a single word drawn in elaborate cursive on the cover. Jacob could barely make it out:

“Chinomicon.” Carefully, Jacob opened the cover. The first page was a passage from his grandfather, signed at the bottom.

 

This is my home, my life, my world. With pen, I write the glorious land of Chimera. With pencil, I draw the fantastical creations that inhabit it. With brush, I form the palate that colors all I make. To all who read this: enjoy my land of imagination.

                                    —Abraham Tunosk. 

 

    “Tunosk.” Jacob turned the page. 

He gasped with sudden awe. What was on the page was a beautiful depiction of a grassland in spring. Not just an average meadow. Each blade of grass shined a different color. The sky was the perfect shade of blue, with fluffy clouds dancing in the sky. He could almost see the wind that blew across the plains, making waves of chromatic beauty. It all looked so real, so perfectly drawn. Jacob reached out and caressed the grass, feeling the strokes of oil paint on the thick paper. 

Did grandpa make this? It’s amazing. Jacob thought about all the crude sketches they boxed. Drawings upon drawings of cartoon kids with dog sidekicks. They were old fashioned, outdated, and useless in today’s world of animation and art. But this… This could have turned heads of all audiences. 

Eagerly, he turned the page, and yet again gasped at what he saw. It was a unicorn.

Jacob wasn’t one to be interested in such girly things. But this one looked so… so real. So majestic. Its pearly coat seemed to move and shift colors ever so slightly. Light radiated from the horn, and the eyes seemed so intelligent, they could see into you. Off to the side, a few passages described the creature.

 

God-given creatures that roam enchanted forests, gifting their presence to only those of pure heart and soul. One of the most intelligent animals of Chimera, Unicorns roam the forests filled with purpose. Magic radiates from them and their horns. The light that shines from them wards the darkest of creatures and has magnificent healing properties….

 

The passage continued for quite a while, and Jacob became uninterested in the poetic scrawlings. He flipped through more pages, skipping some. Each creation was more magnificent than the last. Chapters were filled with fluttering fairies. Stories were told of treants and river spirits. Poems accompanied depictions of great beasts, and legends spoke of old mountains that held grand secrets… Everything looked real. Real and incredible. Each stroke of paint was done so perfectly, each one a testament to the painting arts. 

Why would grandfather keep this a secret? He could’ve made millions selling his ideas and artwork. Jacob was trying to think of reasons that his grandpa hid this book, the Chinomicon. He was flipping through more pages, more creatures, more places. Until he found an empty page with a single line drawn hastily in black ink.

 

Careful what you think, what you see, what you hear… Proceed carefully

 

Strange. Jacob thought. Proceed carefully? With a book? Thinking nothing of it, he turned the page to see the next creation. 

He froze. A slight chill went down his spine. On the page was not the fantastic depiction of a wisp filled forest. Nor was it the happy drawing of a family of gnomes living in a mushroom home. 

Instead, a white face stood amidst a black, misty background, staring intently at him. There were no pupils in its dark grey eyes. Pearly teeth shone bright and with the same realism as the drawings previously. It almost seemed to be a mask of some sort.

The drawing, though disturbing, enticed him to peer further. As he turned the page, Jacob tried to not look at the mask. It seemed to follow his gaze as the paper flipped over on itself. 

He jumped in his seat slightly, for on the next page was the same mask. Only… it was closer. A shadowy hand could barely be made out near the bottom right corner. Pointing to the edge of the page. 

Even though Jacob had the urge to close the book, to seal it back in its secret compartment, he went against his better judgment and turned the page. 

  On the paper was painted a simple scene. A dark forest, devoid of color and life. Leaves were withered and cracked. Bark on the trees seemed twisted and tortured. There were vines on the ground, but only the kind lined with thorns, coated in sickening liquids. A deep, impenetrable fog blocked the background, bringing the focus to the hollow center of the landscape.

Jacob’s eyes itched, and he moved to scratch them. Once he was done, he opened them. This time, he couldn’t stop himself from leaping from the chair. Where there was nothing in the fog, now stood a figure clad in darkness. On his face, he wore the same white mask.

“I must be dreaming.” Jacob scratched his eyes again. “I must be tired.” The beds at the hotel Jacob’s family were staying in, though comfy, weren’t the best to sleep on for multiple nights. He thought about leaving the room. Leaving and forgetting the book.

But as he turned for the door, he heard the noises of pages turning behind him. Jacob whirled around to look at the book. It remained still on the old desk.

He moved to close, skin growing cold at what he saw.

On this page was a scene depicting a violent conflict. Forest creatures were running away from terrifying beasts made of shadows and evil. Some of them were already caught, being devoured, or killed for pleasure. Where the shadow monsters came from was nearly pure darkness. The only light seemed to come from the same white mask, which floated innocently in the corner of the page.

Jacob hastily moved to the book and turned the page, only to reel back as he saw a depiction of a horrifying beast that had the body of a centipede and the head of a snarling beast on each end.

Again he turned the page, only to find another monstrosity. Why would grandpa make these things? Why would he draw these instead of his colorful creations? Was he secretly into this kind of stuff?

As Jacob continued to turn the pages, hoping that things would get brighter, he swore he could hear a voice around him. Page after page he turned, hoping to find something bright amidst this horrible darkness. 

A dream half had…

Jacob froze. There was a voice. But it wasn’t either of his parents.

  A realm color clad…

Did my phone start playing music? He took out his phone, only to see that it was running out of power.

See his work undone… when he thought he’s won…

Jacob looked down at the book. With a shaky hand, he grabbed the previous pages of the book, and slowly turned them.

Thoughts of man twist… Contorted through mist… 

He turned back to one of the first pages. Jacob stopped breathing, his body froze completely. Where the unicorn should’ve been, was a colorless forest. On the ground shone a horn amidst a pool of blood. 

Hearts of good rot… Kindness forgot…

Jacob suddenly felt another presence in the room. He looked around the studio but saw nothing. He looked back down at the picture that once held the majestic creature. Standing in the pool of blood was that same figure. The mask clearly started at Jacob now. 

Heroes can rise… End the demise…

A wave of fog seemed to go over Jacob’s mind. Once it passed, he found that he was holding a pen. 

Not just any pen. A fountain pen of master design. Elegantly colored silver and black. Shapes and patterns were etched along its entirety. Merely holding it made Jacob feel uneasy, yet powerful.

You can go… End death throes… 

Jacob did a quick skim of the pages until he found the earliest blank page. The paper was brown with age but firm, and he felt his hand get drawn to the canvas.

All that’s need made… Is to write your name.

Jacob’s hand shook. His mind was clouded over with a strange mist. His body and brain told him to run. Drop the pen and run. To burn the book. To burn the house…

And yet, he couldn’t stop thinking about that picture. The horn… the blood… If he could bring it back, just by signing his name… Surely there could be no harm.

And just like that, without thinking about it, Jacob signed his name in cursive. Right in the center of the page:

Jacob Tunosk 

Immediately his right hand became cramped. The pen, strangely enough, grew warm. Soon it was too hot to hold, and he dropped it. Jacob tried to massage his hand, trying to calm down. But he found something was attached to his left wrist.

A thick cuff was clasped around it. A thick chain attached, shining cold in the color-tinted light. It ran along the ground at Jacob’s feet, back up the table, and into the book. 

Jacob couldn’t see quite where it was, but at one point the chain transitioned itself from being three dimensional, into a drawing on the paper. He followed the chain across the page, ending in the hands of the shadow man. 

The mask seemed to smile more now. And then the unthinkable happened: the figure moved. 

It happened so suddenly, so unexpectedly. With a single swift movement, it yanked on the chain, which caused it to quickly recede into the drawing. There was no time to comprehend what was going on before the chain got shorter and shorter until Jacob’s left arm was being pulled towards the book. 

He managed to get his footing before he was ripped off the ground. It was painful, but Jacob resisted the chain with all his strength. 

A laugh seemed to come from around him. One that was dark and sinister. One that had no mercy, only malice. With a pull that Jacob didn’t think a shadow was capable of, he was yanked off his feet. 

He let out a single scream before he collided with the book. His arm was being pulled into the pages. And then came his torso. Until finally, his head was dragged under, and he lost consciousness.

Chapter 2

Consciousness returned slowly for Jacob. First, his skin felt the soft ground of grass and moss. Then, his nose picked up the uneasy scent of rotted wood. Finally, his mind came to, sluggishly remembering what happened. With a chilled recollection of the shadow man, Jacob forced himself to open his eyes and prop himself up. 

It was cold. So very cold. 

He was in a forest, that was for sure. Chilled air was stagnant and heavy with moisture. From the little Jacob could see, he made out uneven ground covered in thick, grey grass and moss, creating an almost sponge-like texture. There were trees, yes, but they were leafless and sad. Branches reached out menacingly. They seemed to be reaching for something. Something hidden amongst the shadows that they could never hope to grasp.

Did I fall asleep? Jacob thought. Am I outside grandpa’s house? Was it all a bad dream? The recollection of the masked shadow made him shiver. It seemed so real. Jacob tried to think of any other explanation. After all, a drawing moving on paper was absolutely absurd. Surely his mind was playing tricks on him. Perhaps his parents were playing an elaborate prank on him to cheer him up. Hallucinating maybe?

Jacob tried to get up but found something clasped to his left arm. His heart skipped a beat as he noticed a familiar metal band was fastened securely around his forearm. A chain ran from the brace along the ground connecting to a large book. Picking it up, Jacob found that it was the Chinomicon. Only… something was different. It looked to be in pristine condition. There was no dust covering the spine, nor yellow tint to its pages. Curiously, he opened it up to one of the first pages. He saw what seemed to be a massive moving tree man crossing a glittering river. Birds sat in its branches, and small fish splashed playfully in the jewel-like water. Everything seemed to be the same.

But, the longer Jacob looked at the picture, the more it seemed to move. If he took his eyes off of it for a second, and then glanced back, he would’ve sworn a branch shifted, or a fish jumped, or a bird dove to the ground.

Jacob closed the book. A light *crack* echoed softly in the ghostly woods. He looked around to see what had made the sound, only to see endless rows of depressed trees. Jacob sighed and looked up into the sky. It was tinted a dim orange with no mountains or clouds in sight. I’m not outside the house. Where could I be? Thinking about the best course of action, Jacob eventually decided to walk one direction for a while. 

He’s heard of lucid dreams: just like an ordinary dream, but the dreamer could act on their own and impact the vision. And they could feel everything too. Is that what’s happening? Jacob held the book close, feeling the smooth, yet rough leather spine. I’ve never had one before.

The forest was quiet. The sounds of his footsteps absorbed by the thick ground. There was no wind. There was no sound of birds or other creatures that might have inhabited it. It was almost like the forest itself was dead, not just the trees and foul-smelling moss he stepped over. Light was scarcely provided. Shadows and darkness always loomed in the corner of Jacob’s vision. Some of them, unnervingly, retreated when Jacob tried to look at them directly. 

At one point, Jacob was watching a peculiar little shadow and didn’t notice where he was going, and his feet collided with a tree root. He collided with the ground, inhaling sharply. 

“Well, that wasn’t very pleasant.” A voice said.

Jacob scrambled up and looked around for whoever spoke. But to his confusion, there was no one in sight. Just more dead trees and shifting shades. “I must be imagining things.” He said.

“So must we.”

Jacob looked around again. Someone was playing a trick on him, surely. But once more, there were no people in sight. 

“Who are you looking for?’ The voice said. “We might be able to help.”

“Where are you?” Jacob shouted.

“Behind you. No need to shout.”

Jacob turned around and faced a large dead tree. The one he tripped over. “Where? Behind the tree?” He froze. Before him, ever so slowly, the tree was changing shape. Bark twisted and folded on itself, eventually making what appeared to be a face. Two low hanging branches came down and seemed to act like hands. One of them scratched its hard chin, making a rough scraping sound. 

“You seem confused.” The tree mused. Jacob stood still and silent. Partly in wonder and partly in fear. Anything that seemed to offer a logical explanation was quickly extinguished by what was right in front of him. The tree’s face seemed to grin. “Not from around here? Are you lost?” It asked in a raspy voice.

“I… “ Jacob had to calm his heart down to speak. “I could be lost.” 

“That is unfortunate.” The tree said. “Where are you looking for? We might be able to help you.”

We? Jacob thought. “Um… Sitka. Alaska?”

The tree’s brows furrowed as he thought. “Sorry, but we’ve not heard of either of those places.” 

That’s what I get for asking a tree. Jacob thought and rubbed his temples with his right hand, still clutching the book with his left. 

“That looks like a fine book you have there.” The tree pointed with one of its branch arms, a wooden tendril a few feet from Jacob’s face. “We do not get the chance to read much out here. What is it about?”

Jacob took the book in both hands. “I’m still not sure. My grandfather made it.”

“Family is important.” The tree said, the sound of creaking wood emanating from its mouth. “We have our family right here. Who is your family?”

Jacob took a moment to answer. Should he trust this tree he had just met? Listen to myself. Chatting with a talking tree. He opened the book and started to look through some of the pages.

“What is your name?” The tree asked.

Jacob ignored the inquiry and continued looking through the book. Soon, he came across a painting of a landscape that was covered in dead trees, grass, and moss. Eerily similar to the place he was in now. “Where’s the nearest road? Any hiking trails?”

The tree’s face scrunched up, frowning in thought. “Neither of those are near here. We would know.”

Jacob bit his lip, pondering the next question. “Who’s we?”

The face just stared back at him, unresponsive. “I am we.” It finally answered. 

This is getting really weird. Jacob continued to skim the pages, one of them finally catching his eye. It was a black and white drawing of a grey, dead-looking tree. A face was formed around the middle of the trunk. Not quite like the one he was talking to right now, but similar. A passage of writing accompanied the fine sketch. 

Hollow Oaks are very idle creatures. Though movement is next to impossible, these trees are incredibly cunning and knowledgeable. Once they spot prey, they will communicate with it heartedly and openly, in hopes to lure it closer. Or to at least distract it enough to hide its subtle movements…

Jacob’s heartbeat rapidly with each word he read. A cold understanding flooded through him as he looked back up at the tree. Indeed it was subtle and clever. Jacob didn’t notice the branches that acted as its arms were much closer to him. He took a few steps away from the hollow oak. 

“What is the matter?” It asked, innocently retracting its arms. “Something startle you?”

Trying to calm himself, Jacob took deep breaths and took another step back. “Were you trying to grab me just now?”

The hollow oak’s face seemed shocked. “Of course, we weren’t. We would not grab you without permission first.”

Jacob kept taking steps back, getting ever so slightly farther away from the monster. I’m in a strange forest, about to be taken by a talking dead tree, which I found out about in my grandfather’s hidden book. What’s happening? He kept backing away from the oak.

“Are you scared?” It asked. “It’s okay to be scared. We are scared every now and then.”

“Who’s we?” Jacob asked once more.

Suddenly, from behind him, Jacob heard wood creaking and snapping. He turned around, too late, as branches wrapped around his legs, securing him in place. In front of him was another tree with a face on it. This one slightly different than before, but looked much more menacing. 

“I am we.” It said. “It is we.” The branches held on tight, preventing any sort of movement from Jacob. “You will be we.”

Panicking, he looked around for something he could fend off the oak with. Somehow he didn’t think a book would be too effective.

Or could it?

Thinking quickly, Jacob opened the book back to the page describing the hollow oak. He read through the passages rapidly but carefully. It described the trees as “absorbing” its prey to use as sustenance for the next few months. That did not sound like a pleasant experience. 

He tried to find anything that might help him in his current situation. A weakness? An exploit to these branches? Finally, Jacob found something. 

 

Though these trees are cunning, they lack the proper knowledge of how to deal with whatever creature they are attempting to copy. If they have a face, it acts very similarly to that of an actual animal and has surprisingly sensitive areas that are akin to the real thing.

 

That was all Jacob needed to read. He closed the book and looked back at the tree. Now that he knew it’s little tricks, he saw the subtle movements in its roots that made it move. The face was closer now, almost within arms reach.

Despite being in this situation, ignoring the sudden cold sweat he was in, Jacob remained calm. He waited patiently in fear. All the hollow oak needed to do was get a little closer.

There was a crack, and a gaping hole started to form near the base of the trunk. It grew bigger and bigger until Jacob could faintly see a small skeleton of some poor woodland creature inside. 

His heartbeat rose, forehead drenched in sweat now. But he couldn’t act rashly. He couldn’t panic now.

After a near eternity, the trunk was within arms distance. Taking a chance, Jacob wound up his right arm and punched the tree’s face in one of its eyes. 

A loud screeching sound came from it, pain flared in his arm. Jacob felt its branches let go of his legs. Not wasting a second, he ran away from the two hollow oaks. He didn’t look back, but they were calling out to him, saying they could help.

Jacob kept running until his lungs burned, and legs begged for rest. He stopped to recover in a small clearing, where there were no trees near him. Looking down, he saw some pieces of bark lodged in his knuckles. They didn’t appear to be too deep, but they still hurt and bled when he pulled them out. 

What’s going on? He thought. There’s no way I can be inside the book. It’s impossible. But I was almost eaten by a talking tree. I must be hallucinating. Or tired! That’s it. I’m probably feeling the effects of jet lag. Or something. Jacob kept trying to reassure himself that none of this was real. But as he looked around the clearing, he could not deny that it was all incredibly realistic.

The rustling of dead leaves came from behind him. He whirled around, thinking that the trees were somehow able to keep up with him. But to both his relief and dismay, it was not a tree.

Crawling through the dead leaves and underbrush was the largest centipede that he ever saw. Or that anyone would ever see. It was longer than his parent’s car and was nearly the width of one of its tires. It scurried along the ground with legs resembling hooks, moving in uneven unison. Pincers the size of steak knives were on either end of it, eager to bite down on any flesh it could find. Its chitin shell was pitch black and had a shine to them, reflecting the colors of the dim sunset overhead, creating an almost striking pattern. Jacob could only watch as it got closer, mesmerized by the hypnotic waves of its legs; prismatic gold and yellow shapes flew into his eyes, utterly captivating him. It was close now. 

I need to run. I need to leave. It’s right there… But no matter how hard he commanded, his body would not move.

The insect was right in front of him now. It reared up on the back half of its body, raising itself to Jacob’s height. Its pincers were right in front of him now, open and eager to bite. Even as this horrible creature was about to strike, Jacob couldn’t help but think of how beautiful it was. 

Suddenly all that beauty ended when the ground erupted beneath him.

 Jacob was knocked backward by something erupting from below. After recovering from his harsh fall, he saw that a thing caught the centipede in a deathlock. A big something.

The only thing Jacob could relate it to would be a venus fly trap, only this one was about the size of a trampoline. A nasty grey color coated the plant’s skin and flesh, blending in with the ground seamlessly. He could see the centipede contort and thrash and bite, but soon its movements were reduced to twitching spasms. Satisfied, the trap simply gobbled it up and retreated back to the ground.

It took a few minutes before Jacob could breathe properly, and another few to regain his composure. It was so close. It was about to…. I didn’t… His mind became shrouded, fogged-up by what he had just experienced. This has to be a dream. No, a nightmare. A very, very real nightmare. He took a moment to get his bearings. The sun was almost set, and darkness began to settle over the already grim forest. If these things come out during the day, thought Jacob, then I don’t want to see what comes out at night. He tried to think back to any of those survival tv shows that he’s seen. What was the first step to survival? Shelter? Water? Fire? All these things were necessary, and anyone could make an argument about the importance of each one.

But given the circumstances, Jacob thought it would be best to find shelter. With his grandfather’s book still in hand, he set off once more, this time being much more careful of his surroundings. As he wandered through the endless rows of dead trees, he couldn’t help but think that, in some perspective, it was really quite magnificent. Silence caressed the branches. Soft, comforting foliage on the ground. Cold air that gave the body a feeling of numbness.

Jacob’s train of thought was interrupted by a shriek in the far distance. The air itself seemed to split apart and tremble at the sound. A cold spike drove itself into his spine, paralyzing him. Sudden gushes of wind came from behind him, but he could not feel their hostility.

Finally, after regaining some control of his body, Jacob ran forwards, not even wanting to know what was behind him.

After running and carefully avoiding anything that looked conspicuous, Jacob finally found a tree that seemed somewhat alive. Well… it had a few small, green-ish leaves that clung for dear life. It was tall, and its trunk was wide. There were no low hanging branches, which would make it hard to climb. 

But Jacob had experience climbing trees before, at his parent’s old house. The only thing that would get in the way would be the book. Even though it wasn’t too heavy to lug around for a bit, it was beginning to feel like a lead weight. After wrapping the chain carefully around his left arm and hoisting the book itself over his shoulder, Jacob started his climb.

The tree’s bark was rough and dried, making it suitable to grip, but not to cling too. If he stopped to rest for too long, the bark would most likely tear and send him plummeting to the ground. 

But fortunately, after a minute of hard concentration, Jacob sat triumphantly on top of the tree, in a small nook between its branches. His arms were sore, and only now did Jacob realize how hungry he was. How miserable. He thought. As the last of the sunlight faded, the forest was plunged into darkness. 

Now, Jacob has seen darkness before. The middle of the night in the wilderness. His own bedroom without a nightlight. Even in a cave once on a family trip.

This was not that kind of darkness. 

Nothing could be seen. Or heard. Or felt. It seems that the darkness itself was a living entity, greedily eating any sensation that might come into being. As an experiment, Jacob snapped his fingers. Only a muffled *click* could be heard. Even if he did it near his ears. 

His eyelids grew tired. Jacob had not slept well for the past few days. Between the time change and waking up early to clear out the house, there was not much time to rest, much less for recreation. And it appeared that comfortable sleep would elude him once more. Small inconsistencies in the bark prodded him painfully. His back was positioned awkward, forced to twist with the movement of the tree. But, after some adjustments, Jacob couldn’t help but feel his mind slipping away into unconsciousness.

As he was about to fade, his head jerked up. As if he was about to fall asleep in class. Something doesn’t feel right. But what could it be? After all, there wasn’t anything he could see in front of him, much less if something was creeping up on him right now. 

But, taking a glance up, sleep was the last thing on Jacob’s mind. Right above him, he could make out some sort of bat-like creature that hung from one of the gnarled branches. It had unusually large, expressive eyes, coupled with an equally large mouth of razor-thin teeth that contorted into what could be called a smile. 

No matter how long Jacob looked at it, it did not blink. It did not move. It did not speak. The only thing it seemed interested in was intently staring at him.

Even if it seemed innocent enough, Jacob wasn’t convinced that it would leave him alone. It appeared sleep was going to elude him once more.

Suddenly, a sound came from somewhere, piercing the darkness. But unlike earlier, this was a pleasant sound. It was followed by another one, and another, and another, until it could’ve almost resembled music. 

The melody was eerily calm and peaceful. Jacob felt his consciousness begin to waver. Even though he was looking directly at the bat creature, his eyes started to close, and his mind drifted off to some unknown land.

Jacob slapped himself awake, both mentally and physically. He didn’t know why, but he needed to stay awake. Trying to plug his ears proved futile. More of the pleasant music penetrated his hands and embedded itself in his ears. 

Instead, he decided that the best use of his hands would be to prop his eyelids open. So there Jacob was. Desperately trying to stay awake. Silently hoping that dawn would soon come. 

 

Chapter 3

It was nearly dawn. Slight streaks of sunlight peeked over the wicked treetops. Jacob still sat in the tree, awake. All the while, the smiling creature stared at him, content to watch his very existence. The music stopped about an hour ago, much to Jacob’s relief. Although there was still the problem of sleep.

He stayed up all night. That incredibly long, horrible night was starting to get to his head. Jacob had pulled an all-nighter once before when he was younger. Halfway through the next day, he regretted it. Stumbling around drowsy and exhausted wasn’t quite his lifestyle. That time was nothing compared to this. Jacob’s back ached with pain caused by contortion. His legs were incredibly numb, no matter how he adjusted them. And his eyes… they burned and watered, and needles seemed to prick at them. 

But the thing kept staring. 

With some light, Jacob saw that it was indeed, some sort of flying, bat-like creature. Only bigger; with arms and legs that had severe curves to them. Shaking himself awake, Jacob turned his attention to the ground for a moment before quickly looking back up. Still, the creature didn’t move or shift. 

After making a decision, Jacob decided that he should try to find his way out of the forest. He did not want to spend another night like that. Lugging the book over his shoulder, he carefully grabbed one of the branches and hoisted himself down so that he hung from it lazily.

But Jacob’s strength failed him, and he soon met the ground harshly. He grunted in pain and took a moment to recuperate. A bit too long. With its soft and plump texture, the ground was a pleasant surprise compared to the rigid branches. Already he could feel his mind drift away into slumber.

Jacob panicked and picked himself up quickly. He looked back up, just to see that the bat had finally decided to move. Now it hung on the branch he was just dangling from, gazing at him as merrily as before.

After slapping himself awake, Jacob took a look at his surroundings. Even with slightly blurred vision, it appeared that the forest changed somehow. A tree disappeared here, a rock placed there. Subtle details could be made out by even the most clueless individuals. But the fact that so many slight things changed around him so quickly was a troubling thought. Even with these changes, Jacob was still able to determine roughly which way he came from. So, without a second thought, he headed in the opposite direction.

The journey was awful. Tired and sore, his legs trudged onwards, without regard to where they were headed. More and more needles seemed to prick his eyes as the sun rose into the sky. His back ached to no end, his neck stiff as iron. And the book! To Jacob, it became more like a ball and chain every minute. Lugging it around either in his arms or over his shoulder. Occasionally Jacob would look back to see if anything was following him. Besides the grinning creature displacing itself in nearby trees, everything was perfectly quiet. Ahead of him, he scouted out with his impared vision, trying to find anything that seemed like a threat. A few things he could see were clearly off-putting: a boulder lifted slightly off the ground on one end, a lump in the land that didn’t look quite right, a suspiciously familiar tree…

But every now and then, Jacob got lucky. Once, he came across a massive, four-legged beast roaming the forest. Black fur covered its hide. Claws the size of swords protruded its paws, accompanied by teeth that resembled butcher knives. It looked at Jacob directly with eyes that seemed to glow red energy. Fortunately for Jacob, it didn’t seem to be hostile or hungry. After taking in a few whiffs of air, it appeared uninterested and wandered off. 

The day seemed to come and go. As the sun began descending into the horizon, Jacob saw hope up ahead. His aimless wandering was rewarded with visions of green. Unsure if it was a hallucination or not, Jacob kept walking, eager to get out of this horrid place.

Life was beginning to become more present. Trees started to boast leaves, grass turning a pale shade of green. A soft breeze caressed his cheek. Renewed with vigor, Jacob picked up his pace. He took one look back at the dark forest. The bat creature, usually a few steps behind him, was now a fair distance away and didn’t seem like it was going to follow for much longer. A large frown was splattered across its face. 

Finally. Jacob thought. Maybe there will be more pleasant creatures in my future. But those thoughts and any others he had for a length of time were swallowed up by exhaustion and hunger. He had never been this hungry before. With his parent’s being very conscientious about food and nutrition, Jacob always had access to at least an apple or a stalk of celery. Now though, there was nothing in sight. At least nothing that seemed like food. Guess I can always eat the grass. He mused. 

As the sun started to set in the sky, Jacob’s vision began to waver. Things became less and less clear with every step. He couldn’t feel his legs but felt too much with his arms. Thankfully there were more signs of good things to come. The trees were now full of green leaves. Grass grew thick and plentiful, no longer choked down by grey moss. Wind, though still cold, was gently whistling in his ear. Best of all; the bat creature no longer trailed him. It seems it lost interest, finally. Jacob rubbed his eyes. Where is everyone? No roads. No lights. No planes. I have to be somewhere in Alaska, right? Looking around him, Jacob could only assume he’d somehow ended up in the wilderness of Sitka. But there were still things that troubled him.

There were no mountains. Alaska was full of mountains, especially around Sitka. The grey forest, as well, was troubling. All the trees he saw on their trip here were lush and shone a vibrant green. And then there were the creatures that lived here, especially the trees. Jacob had never seen or heard about meters long centipedes, or giant hook-limbed bats, or talking trees. Maybe Alaska was always like this, and he never knew. Or perhaps… 

Jacob took a look at his grandfather’s book once more. It seemed to grow with weight every step he took. But for every step he took, it seemed to regain youth, looking younger and younger. Could I really be…. No, ridiculous. He shook his head and hoisted the book over his shoulders once more. I’m just tired. Probably hallucinating. Those creatures were just other animals, and my brain’s playing tricks on me.”

As the sun continued to go down, Jacob searched for a place to rest. Trees grew more dense, making it hard to see in front of him. Grass was becoming wildly thick and tangled and made up the majority of undergrowth. Jacob more than once tripped over unseen roots and stray logs. After the sun fell below the trees behind him, Jacob decided he needed to find shelter fast. 

The wind started to pick up, and clouds finally started to show up. But these ones did not look fluffy and friendly. They brought more ominous news with them. Along with the slight patter of rain that started to fall. Jacob picked up his pace. Even with his eyes dying for sleep, he kept all of his focus in them. Tasking them with finding anything he could use as shelter. 

At last, he found something: an unusually large tree raised off the ground by its roots. There was a sizable gap underneath them covered with vines that almost resembled curtains. With no other alternatives and sunlight nearly gone, Jacob decided to risk the humble shelter. 

He had to get onto his knees to enter. Shoving the vines away, he saw that there must’ve been someone here before. A small bed made of leaves and grass covered half the ground. Some crudely crafted wooden jars were tucked away opposite the bed, with equally crude lids. Without a second thought, Jacob curled up on the makeshift bed and tossed the book on the ground. 

There weren’t any pillows or blankets to be seen. Wind still filtered through the vines and made Jacob shiver. But, despite this, he had never fallen asleep so quickly. 

* * *

Jacob’s head throbbed with tiredness the next day. His stomach, still empty, sang a similar tune. It was raining outside, that much was for sure. A torrential downpour by the sound of it. Fortunately for Jacob, the crude jars contained a bountiful amount of nuts and dried fruits. Another one was filled with clear water, which was gone in an instant. With his belly finally full, and the rain continuing its ballad outside, Jacob was in no hurry to leave. He got comfortable on the bed once more, and let his mind recover. All the while, thinking: Where am I?

* * *

Jacob awoke drowsily to something that was tugging on his pants leg. It took a minute for him to fully come to his senses. He opened his eyes only to shut them again. Bright sunlight peeked through the vine curtain. The smell of freshly watered grass and doused leaves filled his nostrils. And there was the vague sound of birds chirping. But one sound overcame all the others.

“Hey. Are you awake?”

Jacob sat up suddenly, only to hit his head against the tree’s roots. “Ow…”

  “Oooo… that looked like it hurt. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I think…” Jacob stopped and faced the person he was talking to.

Or… animal? 

Standing in the curtain was a peculiar little creature, only about one and a half feet tall. It resembled a fox: with four legs, a bushy tail, and a fluffy chest. Only this one wasn’t covered in fur. Instead, tiny emerald green leaves covered it from head to toe. A lighter, nearly white shade of green covered its underbelly and part of its snout and paws. A thin line of shiny, silver leaves coated just the tip of its pointed ears. Intelligent sea-green eyes stared at Jacob curiously, and worryingly. For an animal, this little fox had very expressive features.

“Hi, there little guy,” Jacob said.

“I’m a girl?” The fox said.

Jacob froze. It spoke. Much like the tree, it gave him a little shock to hear something else besides a human talk. He just sat there stupidly, looking at the creature with new caution. “What are you?” He asked.

The fox cocked her head in confusion. She looked herself up and down with new curiosity. “I’m a fox, I guess.” She turned her attention back to Jacob. “Why are you in my hideout?”

“Your what?”

“My hideout.” She pointed with her nose at the bed he was sitting on. “That’s my bed. And those,” she gestured to the wooden jars, “are my food and water jars. This,” she spun around in a little circle, brushing her tail up against the sides of the entrance, “is my hideout I made.”

It took Jacob a moment to recover. “I’m so sorry.” He said hastily. “I didn’t know someone was still living here. I just needed to find a place to rest. It was raining, and the sun was going down and…” Jacob was interrupted by the little fox bursting into laughter. She laughed and laughed and fell onto her back, giggling playfully.

“I’m… I’m sorry, it’s just… I can’t act all serious and angry.” She stood up and looked at Jacob with a smile. “You’re fine. I’m glad my little place could help someone out in need.”

“Oh. Thank you, um…” 

“Blossom.”

“Blossom. That’s a pretty name.”

Blossom seemed embarrassed. “Aw… thanks! What’s yours?”

“Jacob.”

“Jacob? Ooo… I’ve never heard of a name like that.”

“Really?”

“Nope.” Blossom came closer to Jacob and prodded his right arm with one of her paws. “And I’ve never met a treant that was so… so… fleshy? Or one that wears clothes for that matter.”

Jacob raised an eyebrow. “Treant? I’m a human.”

“A human? I’ve never seen one of those before!” She whirled around in excitement, brushing her tail across Jacob’s arm. “This is so cool. Where did you come from? Are there more of you? Oh! You don’t eat foxes, do you? Because I don’t think I’ll be very tasty.”

“What? No, I don’t eat foxes.”

“Are you suuuuuure?” She asked.

“Never have, never will,” Jacob reassured her.

Blossom smiled and sprang towards the door. “Come on, tell me all about you.” She said before bounding out the entrance.

“Wait,” Jacob said. He had quite a few questions for the little fox. Like where she learned to speak and what place in Alaska had talking foxes. Lugging the heavy book once more, Jacob proceeded to crawl out of Blossom’s shelter. Blinding light flashed his eyes as he stood up outside. When they adjusted, Jacob had to catch his breath. 

But this time, it was neither in fear or shock. In front of him was something that could only be described in dreams.

The trees weren’t just in full bloom, full of new leaves and flower petals, but they were nearly glowing as the sunlight refracted emerald splashes of color. Their bark, once brown and sturdy, now had a reflective surface to it. Lines of pulsating life energy soared up the trunk from the roots, running across the edges and curves. Birds chirped in the branches merrily. Jacob tried to get a better look at them, but was shocked to find that they were nearly transparent! It seemed their feathers were so thin and vibrant with shifting colors that they seemingly blended in with the leaves and sky.

Speaking of which; the sky above was now empty of any rain clouds, and Jacob could hear a stream. Looking down, he saw Blossom waiting near a small river. No more than three feet wide, and not nearly as deep. But the life that flooded around it was miraculous. Ferns and flowers grew fervently along its shores. Each one seemed to be a unique species, blooming different colors, and shone different shades. Multi-colored grass brandished spectacular and vivid shades of green, blue, brown, yellow, and pink. It shook in the wind, creating a canvas of kaleidoscopic wonder. 

Small fish darted in the stream, fighting the current. Each scale was like its own precious jewel. Each one placed so perfectly and created so flawlessly. Some of the fish swirled and spun their tails and fins, showing off their miraculous scales. 

Blossom waited patiently for Jacob, although she looked a little confused. After Jacob regained his breath, he spoke rather softly, as if not to disturb the scenery around him. “Where are we?”

“Why are you whispering?” Blossom asked.

“I just… It seems so peaceful.” Jacob remarked.

Blossom scoffed. “Ha! Those birds up there are always causing a riot.” Some loud chirping came from a tree behind her. She turned and looked up at three birds perching on one of the lower branches overlooking them. “I heard that! Go away, you dirty worm eaters!” Apparently, the birds didn’t like the insult, as they swooped down and began pelting Blossom with pecks. “Ah! Okay, okay, I’m sorry!” The birds, satisfied with her answer, stopped and flew away noisily. Blossom picked herself up and shook off the grass that got in her leaves. “Stupid birds.”

“You don’t like them?” Jacob asked.

“Oh, trust me. You wouldn’t like them either if you knew what they were saying.” Blossom said.

“You speak bird?” 

“It took a lot of practice. But I’m pretty fluent in it.” She smiled and looked happily on at Jacob. “So, what was your question?”

Jacob looked back at the tree that made up Blossom’s shelter. It was the grandest tree around, displaying its massive roots and tough branches proudly. Thicker leaves grew in abundance, absorbing the sunlight and radiating power. “Where exactly are we?”

“Shining Grove, why?” Blossom asked. “You don’t know where you are?”

Jacob looked at his grandfather’s book. “Not really, no.”

“What’s that?” Blossom asked curiously. She came up to Jacobs’ side and tried to stand on her hind legs to peek at the cover. “I can’t see.” 

“It’s a book,” Jacob said.

“Well, duh genius. What’s it about?”

“I’m still not sure.” Jacob walked over and sat down next to a tree, leaning against it. Blossom patiently sat next to him. “It was my grandpa’s. He was a big artist. Not a very successful one, but he did make this.” Jacob opened it up to a random page. Two small gnomes were picking mushrooms in a cavern illuminated by crystals growing out of the walls. The painting was so vivid and precise that Jacob could see the individual strands of hair flowing from underneath their working caps. 

“Wow…” Blossom said. “They look just like them.”

“What? Who?”

“Like Tip and Tap.” She said. “I didn’t know your grandpa painted gnomes.” 

Jacob smiled a bit. “Neither did I.” 

“What’s that say?” Blossom pointed her nose at a passage next to the painting.

“You can’t read it?” Jacob asked.

“I’m not very good.” She admitted sheepishly. 

“Well, it says that they are very good gatherers, and will hoard up many useful materials that they find interesting to use in their crafts.”

“Well… I mean, yeah.” Blossom looked confused. “That’s all gnomes. Does it say anything about Tip and Tap?” Skimming through the rest of the passage proved there was nothing included about the gnomes in the picture. Jacob was growing more confused every minute. Although an idea did form in his head.

“Hey, Blossom?”

“Yes?”

“Do you know about any dead forests around here? Full of grey grass and leafless trees?”

The little fox nodded slowly. “Yeah. The Dread Weald. Mom always told me to never go near there.” She gasped and looked up at Jacob with a look of shock across her face. “Did you come from there?”

Jacob bit his lip. “Yeah. I think so.” He started flipping through the pages until the familiar grey forest showed up. Unlike the others, this picture seemed to remain static and dull, although still beautifully drawn. 

Blossom shivered next to him and hugged his left arm. “Just looking at it gives me chills. Was your grandpa there too?”

“I’m starting to think that.” Jacob said. Could it be true that he is in this book? A place that his grandfather made? But how was that possible? And if he was in the book, then how did he still have it? And what were the chains for? The Masked shadow? So many questions swirled around in Jacobs’s mind that he didn’t feel Blossom bump him to get his attention. 

“Hey, Jacob.” She said, clearly upset. “You don’t look very happy. Is something wrong?” 

Jacob looked down at the fox. Her sea-green eyes were plagued with worry. But even just looking at her made Jacob feel happy. He didn’t understand why. He took his left hand and scratched behind her ears. She closed her eyes and smiled, leaning into his hand. “It’s okay. I’m just a little lost. But I’ll find my way home.” He retracted his hand and moved to close the book.

“Hey!” 

“What?” 

Blossom looked a little disappointed. “Can we… read a little longer?” 

For once, ever since he found the book, Jacob had something to smile about. “Sure.” He said. Blossom grinned in excitement and glued her eyes to the pages. 

Jacob started near the beginning and began reading. There was quite a bit of text to the book, and Jacob had to stop every now and then to teach some of the words to Blossom, who was a little frustrated that she couldn’t understand them. They read about dryads, nymphs, gnomes and elves (which apparently there is a big difference), treants, wisps, wolves, birds, falcons, owls, deer, stags, butterflies, beetles, ferns, trees, and anything else that the book presented them with; each with a captivating picture to go along with them, which Blossom enjoyed much more. Together, Jacob read to Blossom until the sun started to go down. Even then, they stayed under the tree, reading about his grandfather’s wonderous world.