The 5th Step- Chapter 1

He sat on the forest floor, back to the huge moss-covered boulder. Auburn leaves flittered in the wind, dancing to the tune of Mother Nature. Above, the sun woke from its slumber and painted the white clouds a vibrant pink. Sunlight filtered through the canopy, causing patchy darkness to appear on the soft forest floor. The birds chirped the wake-up call, and all around the forest life started to teem with energy for yet another day.

And yet, he saw nothing but the piece of parchment in his hand with ineligible charcoal scribbles which held no significance to his work. It seemed as if he were possessed as he feverishly scribbled more and more on the parchment. His eyes had an infinite depth to them, and yet they seemed hauntingly empty. The scratch of the charcoal on the parchment surrounded him until he was nothing more than a dark stroke on the parchment he held in his hand, nothing more than a dot in the endless pattern of the world, nothing more-

A sudden crunch on his left awoke him from his trance. As he came to, he glanced to the side to see what had made the noise, only to see a deer quietly observing him in turn. He sighed and reached into his bag slowly as the deer leaned its head forwards. He took out an apple and held it out in his hand and laid his head back against the soft moss as the deer started nibbling at the apple. Once it was done, he threw the core away half-heartedly and dusted himself off. He strung his lute around his waist and started for the edge of the forest. The music echoed alluringly throughout the forest as he softly strummed the instrument, playing one of his favourite pieces. Animals gathered around him, from little critters to majestic beasts, all joined his procession.

Shadows danced amongst the trees as he began to tell the story of this particular piece. A sudden mist appeared in the forest, enveloping all present in his procession and taking them to another reality. With a light, energetic tone to the music, he introduced the running man, fastest in the world. Through the fields of maize he ran, laughing, leaping, shouting with joy as the wind snatched away his voice. The strumming slowed as the man came to a stop, panting from the exertion. But he never stopped smiling. He looked behind him toward his house, a little speck on the horizon. The music took on a sudden note of despair. In the distance, he saw a ferocious storm heading straight towards his house. His daughter was still in the house. And then, a note of hope. The running man, the fastest man in this world of ours, grew excited. For now, the running man was going to race the world itself and win, for the sake of his daughter. The music reached a crescendo as he ran towards his house. The storm grew closer, and he could feel his fear growing. Yet, he could not stop running. He ran and he ran, going faster than he ever did, and at the peak of the music, he reached his house just as the storm hit.

Just as the music climaxed, it stopped. All were jolted out of that reality unexpectedly. The procession of animals, half out of respect and half out of fear, dispersed back into the forest as he collapsed. Tears flowed freely from his eyes. Relief and despair overwhelmed his heart. He could still play like the Mourning Bard blessed by the heaven’s, known around the world for bringing any piece he played to life. And yet, he was cursed to never be able to write his own.