The Forest Lady
From “The Emerald Scrolls”
 Not
far from one of those big accumulations of flimsy summer-cottages which once were cosy
villages there is a beautiful forest. It seems to be one of the rare places where one can
still hide from all the filth of our routine life, clear oneself from the dull taint of
civilization. And on entering this dwelling of native enchantment, so simple and so
transparent for the human soul, some may burst out sobbing, feeling how all the
surroundings like a salve, are healing their spirits, which are covered with wounds;
healing with some kind of rosy sorrow. And when cured those chosen can hear words in the
gentle whispering of the foliage. Those words make up a story about a happy love and a
selfless love, about memory, about duty and blame. This forest has something to
tell.
Many years ago in a tiny house somewhere in the outskirts of the
village there lived an old woman. Nowadays one won’t find any vestige of that house. The
old woman was very gracious and kept her farm in order. There were always many
strawberries growing in her kitchen garden for her little granddaughter who usually came
there in summer and liked it very much. And everybody in the village was fond of Undine:
when summer came, and the clear voice of that young dark-curled creature filled the
region, all the village came to the old woman’s house with some gifts for their “dear
Undine”. And they thought with some kind of sadness: “Someday our dear girl will grow
up and be a beauty and just forget us in her urbanity”.
And Undine was growing up, growing prettier and prettier. More
and more time she spent in the neighbouring forest. She was said to make friends with the
local Forest Keeper; but those rumours were kind, as the forest was valued by the
villagers. It was deeply respected and even loved.
Well, every village is usually full of gossips, but there is no smoke
without fire. At first Undine spent hours sitting by a forest lake as if justifying her
name. She would sit and sit, watching water-plants dancing and the sun sparkling on the
water surface. But one day she seemed to see a fair lad’s face in the water-plants’
pattern. She shook her head, rubbed her eyes, but the delusion was not going to disappear.
She lifted her eyes up: there was a man standing over her. Actually it was a being the
human nature of which she would have never doubted: he was rather tall, his crimp hair was
of soft red colour and fell to the waist, he had pale complexion, aquamarine eyes and
gracefully retrousse nose covered with freckles. He looked quite young. Undine rose and
gave the young man an inquiring look.
“Dermot”, he said stretching out his hand for greeting.
“Undine”, replied the girl sealing the acquaintance with a
handgrip. Dermot had a strong hand. “You are not from the village, and besides there is
something foreign in your appearance. Where are you from?”
“O beauteous princess, I live here. I’m the local Forest
Keeper”.
“Ah… are all these tales true? But you… you look like a human”.
“I am a human. Actually, I had been one long ago. In the times
immemorial I became an exile and my fate brought me here. At first I pined for the emerald
hills of dear Erin, but little by little my yearning began to deaden and I suddenly beheld
this forest’s need for love. I began to tend it. After some time I perceived that I had
stopped growing old and I also discovered some strange virtues and abilities of myself. It
was the forest that has changed me, I believe. But through all this time my feelings
haven’t faded away and it sometimes hurts me cruelly that I have no motherland, no home,
no beauteous colleen by my side… well, just like you, princess”.
“Oh, could you please tell me about your motherland?” asked Undine.
And so they would sit during long summer evenings by the lake or in
Dermot’s secret hovel and he would narrate about the ancient Irish kingdoms, about the
sea, which she had never seen, about his life and about the forest. He revealed to her the
mysteries of the forest; he taught her the language of birds and beasts; and as days
passed Dermot realised more and more distinctly that he loved Undine. But she could accept
him only as a good friend, almost a brother, because her heart had been already devoted to
another man. Dermot knew that and didn’t declare his feelings.
Soon Undine married that man and they decided to move to another town.
She came to the village to say goodbye to Dermot. “I wish you happiness”, he said. I
want you to know that if you’re in need I’m always ready to help you”. The girl
thanked him and left.
Three blissful years she spent with her beloved, but then he muddled
into a murky business. He was threatened with his death and there came time for hiding
from the chase, changing places and names. There was no rest for them. And Undine
remembered about Dermot. The pursuers followed them, but they managed to reach the forest
and suddenly they saw that their foes couldn’t enter – it looked like a wall didn’t
let them pass. That was Dermot who didn’t let them in.
Undine and her family decided to stay in the hovel for some time, but
those bloodthirsty bandits camped not far from the wood and were not likely to go away.
Once Dermot came up to Undine and said:
“They need only your husband, so they will let you and your little
son go. I’ll turn into your husband and yield myself to them. And you should wait till
they leave and then go away quickly”.
“But why are you doing that?”
Cause I love you, princess. And for me my love means more than my life.
Farewell!” And he went and did as he had told her, and they waited for some days and
moved to a big city, far from those men.
After a couple of years they came back to visit Dermot’s lair. Undine
felt a pang when she saw all that: the forest was an ocean of sorrow, there were no birds
or beasts, and direful sounds could be heard – the tree blood was dropping on the last
year’s foliage; the trees were crying. And she simply didn’t manage to go away. She
left her family and made the old Dermot’s hovel her new home.
On finding a lady the forest has become even fuller of charm and
enchantment than ever. And those lucky men can still see Undine’s black curls and
sometimes her beautiful young face and incurably sad eyes here and there.
Contributed by Natasha Lebedeva,
Second year IGUMO student
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