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The hole looked rather shallow, but my feet didn't touch the bottom when I jumped in. I must've hit my head as I fell down that rabbit hole, because all of a sudden I found myself lying on colds stone in complete darkness.

Not for long. As soon as I sat up, a spark started a campfire right in front of me. I sat up and saw the rounded cave I was in, the tunnels out of it, the roots piercing through the compressed soil walls.

And I saw him.

He sat opposite me across the fire. Old past age, even though his braided hair was black as a raven's wing. His face looked like carved in stone. The fire seemed to burn in his deep, narrowed eyes. If I had any doubt about his identity, his full ceremonial garments left none. He held a wooden cup in his hands.

"You're The Guardian," I said, statement, not question.

His head moved in a slow nod. "And you are the hunter's child," he said in a solemn way.

Grandpa had told me how he'd tried to find The Guardian of the Forest. The old Nooksack spirit had shown up a couple of times. Grandpa talked about those encounters as the product of mutual curiosity and respect.

I decided not to beat around the bush. I knew there was no defeating The Guardian, especially in his own realm. I could only try to negotiate with him, convince him.

"I'm here about the men you took, Guardian," I said, respectful but firm.

Not like a made much of an impression. He held my eyes as if I hadn't spoken at all.

But he replied, "They are mine now." He sounded adamant.

"Are they still alive?"

"Maybe."

"Please, let them go."

"If you want me to set them free, you have to prove your honesty."

He handed me the wooden cup. It was full of some thick liquid with sparks of gold and green. I took it.

"You're letting them go if I drink this?" I asked.

"Only the truth can set them free. Your truth, since it is you who asks for their release."

Great. The ghost of the old shaman had gone biblical. I hadn't much of a choice.

"Alright, shoot."

"Drink."

I did. It tasted sweet, with a hint of herbs. I'd only drunk half of it when the fire went off and I was in the dark again. I heard the rustle of his clothes.

"Wait! Don't go!" I cried.

His voice echoed all around me. "You need time to look into your heart. I will be back soon."

Don't Open That Door - GoM 1Where stories live. Discover now