And she wondered about all those lives and families– where did they go after the spell was lifted? Were they still there somewhere, continuing on in their lives, progressing throughout time as if they were as real as life on earth?
Glynis thought they might be, but the details were hazy. If they were continuing, thriving, how did they explain their history? For she entered their lives only with the forest contact, yet their lives were rich and full and real before then, and after. If the visitor’s wish were strong and came true in this way, could it be that the visitor was aware of this other life on some in articulated level. This could be why the wish was present in the first place.
She thought these might be simply ongoing parallel lives, not just the stuff of daydreams. And she wondered about the time she remembered entering the forest for the first time – spelling her name on the path. Was that also an alternate lifetime – one in which she was a daughter? It seemed so very long ago, swimming upstream was practically impossible. Where was this path? This mother’s voice calling for breakfast? Was it only one episode among so many?
The iridescent beads on the string had been given to her so long ago she didn’t remember where they came from or who gave them to her. They had always been with her. Did she have the beads when she wrote her name on the path? If she did, then she reasoned that this was just another alternate. But if not, then she really had been that little girl so long ago playing too near the forest. She had no visible way to find out, and no one to ask. The marshals in the forest and the city weren’t wise to these ways. And she hadn’t seen other forest dwellers like herself for years now. This was just a mystery she carried with her. If it was to be solved, some clue would show itself. If not, then she’d have to continue on. The message of this mystery, clearly, was patience.
No one lasted as long as she did – life became lonely, or would have been if it weren’t for the stars and sky and trees and birds and all of natures loving embrace. Her lives with the people who came to her in the forest were emotionally rich and satisfying, deep with meaning and profound personal exchange. She only felt alone when in the cities and towns, for there she recognized no one and the stars seemed very far away.
In one town she stayed at an inn, walking around the streets during the days and eating in the jolly dining pub by the roaring fire each night. People who were also traveling, no one from the town, all open because loneliness and all seekers or runners in one way or another. She played games with them – darts and backgammon, laughing in the night while the good people of the town slept till dawn. Ale and meat each night made her feel coarse and heavy – she got along with them all very well indeed! The forest memory faded – and she would have been trapped if not for the glistening of the beads by her nightstand.
She opened her window curtains to see the moon before bed, and opened the window too, for the air was sweet and gentle. Moonlight expanded into the room, and lit up on the beads coiled on the table beside the narrow bed. In one iridescent flash she remembered all – the forest, the many lives, her purpose. No need for regrets – she packed her bag with purpose and left before dawn, making her way to the side road bordered with wild bracken. Slipping in on a dog path, she dived into the forest network and was home.