The Legend of Lescha

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. The cabin stood in the centre of the woods cradling half of the town in the shape of a crescent moon. It was a small town. Everyone knew everyone and it rarely saw visitors. There was a school, a hospital, a sprinkling of wooden chalets, and a simple but successful logging industry. No one knew who owned the cabin; it had been abandoned for longer than almost anyone could remember. However, as in every small town, there were whispers. They told of an old man that lured in lost travellers, a spirit of the forest, missing children, a witch that controlled animals.

“Ghost stories”

“Just to scare the kids y’know”

“Not an ounce of truth in ‘em”

No one would admit to believing it, but still, no one dared visit the cabin. Even the loggers stuck to the outskirts of the woods.

“The cabin’s too old, damaged wood, could fall and kill someone”

“Why would I want to go to an old cabin anyway”

“Dangerous? Sure, but ‘cause of the bears, not that cabin - no one believes all that, no one.”

No one, except Amelia.

Amelia was 99 years old. Her hair had never turned grey but instead a soft copper, which, in the sunlight, could be mistaken for gold. She lived on the edge of her town and if you stood at exactly the right angle and squinted, you could see the cabin from the window of her attic. She spent most of her days in her armchair by the window, surrounded by paintbrushes held in old jam jars, watercolours, and her paintings. She painted the woods, she painted the town, she painted the sky, she painted the robin that visited her window ledge. She even painted the cabin. Amelia had 3 children, 5 grandchildren, and one great grandchild. She lived with her granddaughter and great granddaughter: Elsie. Elsie was 12 years old, she had jet black hair and amber eyes that complemented her grandmother's copper golden hair.

“Tell me again about Leshca and the cabin,” Elsie had asked, knowing it was bedtime.

“Not again.” Her mum had heard the story too many times, but it still gave her chills. “You won’t sleep.”

“I will mum, please… Gramma, tell me about the eyes!”

A meaningful look between a grandmother and her granddaughter, a sigh, and all three generations gathered to hear the story one more time.

“Leshca had six eyes. Two human eyes, green like emeralds, to see the world as we do. Two eyes of an owl on her forehead, large and round, midnight black with a halo of gold to see the night, and on each side of her head, a deer eye…”

“To watch for danger!” Elsie chimed in.

“Exactly, to watch for danger.” Amelia continued “Leshca could be a man or a woman, old or young. They could change shape as easily as we change our clothes. Leshca was created to watch over the woods. They protected the animals, the trees, and anyone who crossed their path.”

“But not everyone respected the woods, did they Gramma?” Elsie asked, even though she knew the answer.

“That’s right. One day, a hunter entered the woods. He saw a stag standing in a clearing and without hesitation shot an arrow through its heart. As the life drained from the stag, the hunter dragged him through the woods, leaving a trail of blood behind him. Eventually, he stopped. He began to snap the branches from the trees around him to make a small fire. Only Leshca could hear the screams of the trees and feel the agony of the stag. When Leshca found the hunter they summoned all their power; tree roots burst from the ground and tightened around the hunter's limbs. The hunter screamed but there was no one to hear him. The roots pulled and slowly the hunter's body began to tear apart. But Lescha could still feel the pain of the stag and the trees. She called the falcons, they swooped down scratching his face and ripping apart his clothes. And then she called…”

“I think that’s enough for today!” Elsie’s mum had never liked this story. She gave her grandmother a warning look.

“What happened to Leshca?!” Elsie wanted more.

“As time went on, more and more hunters came to the woods. Some for the animals, and some for the trees. Lescha grew fearful, their heart was heavy with pain from the suffering of their land. The fear turned to anger. Any man, woman, or child who entered the woods went missing. No one knows what Leshca did with the bodies. Some claim Leshca ate the dead, others say they gave them to the animals, but I believe she trapped their souls…” Amelia trailed off.

“Until…” Elsie knew every word of the story but never tired of hearing it.

“Until one woman went looking for Leshca. She set out into the woods with one goal: to find and destroy Leshca.”

“And did she?” This was Elsie’s favourite part.

“No. But she managed to trap her!” Amelia’s eyes glinted.

“How??” Elsie grinned.

“All we know is that one day there was a cabin in the middle of the woods. No one ever saw Leshca again. The woods became safe. Children could play and the townspeople could use the woods again. Leshca became a story.”

“And now the town is safe!” Elsie cried!

“And now the town is safe. But to this day, no one goes near the cabin. Some say Leshca is still trapped inside, waiting. When I was a girl, a single candle burned in the window, but the cabin has been dark for over 90 years now.”

“Time for bed now I think,” Elsie’s mum ushered her to bed as Amelia gazed out the window to the woods. Perhaps it was just a story, so many years had passed.

Elsie couldn’t sleep. Her amber eyes were wide open in the darkness, every shadow created a creature in her mind's eye; creatures she wanted to capture and defeat like the woman in the story. Elsie slowly pushed back her covers. In the darkness, she grabbed what she could without making a sound. A knitted jumper, a pair of boots and a torch she kept under her bed.

Elsie knew the way to the cabin, she had traced it on maps more times than she could count. Most children would be scared of the dark, but it drew Elsie in. The shadows danced in the moonlight inviting her to join them. And so she did.

She had been walking for what felt like hours. She couldn’t see the cabin but she knew it was close, and then suddenly, it appeared. She had never been scared of the cabin before, but as it loomed over her she felt a chill run through her body. As she reached out to turn the doorknob her heartbeat began to quicken. A gust of wind blew open the door with an excruciating scream that made Elsie jump. She clutched her torch and reminded herself that she was not scared. She placed one foot over the threshold and held her breath as she shone the torch into the room. It was exactly how you would imagine a cabin to be. A fireplace covered in cobwebs. A wooden chair, covered in a thick layer of dust. A small stove and kettle. And, on top of a table in the centre of the room, a candle.

The torch light flickered. And suddenly it wasn't an ordinary cabin anymore. She stood frozen as floorboards in front of her melted into darkness creating a void from which a figure emerged. Its arms were long and thin like vines, twisting and turning in a way that was far from human. Its fingers unfurled to reveal talons that pushed a mop of hair from its face. Its eyes opened. The emerald green radiated across the room. And again. Two golden rings appeared above the creature's eyes and blinked twice. Elsie’s heartbeat echoed in her ears. The creature snapped its head to the left, a single eye opened on the side of its face and bore into Elsie’s soul. The deer’s eye, to watch for danger. Elsie couldn’t find her voice but she found her feet. She dropped the torch and ran. She didn’t dare look behind her but in her mind she could see the creature hovering, reaching out to her, but she ran. She could feel the cold talons caressing the back of her neck, but she ran. She ran until she reached her house where she collapsed against her front door shaking.

That night a candle burned in the window of the cabin for the first time in 90 years.

Elsie woke up in the morning. It had all felt like a dream. Except for that eye. Every time she closed her own eyes she could see that large bulbous eye staring back at her. She made her way up to the attic. Amelia was already there, in her armchair, cradling a steaming cup of tea.

“Good morning Elsie, how did you sleep?” Amelia enquired without taking her eyes off the woods.

“Okay, I guess… What are you doing?” Elsie didn’t know what to believe anymore.

“Counting the trees,” Amelia replied.

Elsie joined her grandmother, perching on a footstool by her side. “There’s too many to count,” Elsie said, knowing that her grandmother counted the trees every morning. It was one of her many quirks that made Elsie smile. This morning she decided to count too.

The day continued as normal. Elsie went to school, her mum to work, two fellers ate their lunch outside the bench house on the edge of the woods, and Amelia started a new painting.

The next night, two candles burned. Amelia worked on her painting by candlelight as the candle in the cabin burned brighter than the night before. At first, Amelia thought it was a trick of the light. She looked again. It couldn't be. The paintbrush fell from her hand, leaving a streak of Viridian across her almost finished painting; the spell was broken. She’d been working too long. The cabin was empty. Leshca was gone. "I need to sleep," she muttered to herself and she blew out her candle.

But Amelia had seen the light and Lescha was anything but gone. As Amelia slept, Lescha walked through the woods for the first time since they had been trapped in the cabin. A fire burned within them, and with every tree stump, every trap, every trace of human, Leshca’s fire grew. Over half the woods had been destroyed, the animals cowered, and the land felt dry. Lescha placed their hand softly on the trunk of a Cedar. “I’m back,” they whispered.

The night was balmy, hotter than usual, most of the town had opened their windows to sleep. The ground beneath the town rumbled, but no one woke. They were more than sleeping now; Leshca was in control. Throughout the town, roots erupted from the ground like a sea creature emerging from the waves. Moving as one they slithered through the windows of the children’s bedrooms. As a python wraps around its prey the tree roots wound around the children and dragged them back into the woods where Leshca was waiting.

The next morning, the town awoke. The spell Lescha had cast left the town groggy, but it didn’t take long for everyone to realise that the children were missing. Parents cried and phones rang, some gathered in the town hall; the town filled with panic.

Amelia was in the attic, as she was every morning, counting the trees.

“Elsie’s gone! Her bed is empty! Nanna, I don’t know what to do, what do we do?!” Elsie’s mum pleaded with Amelia as she stared out the window.

“There are more trees,” Amelia said, more to herself than to her granddaughter.

“What are you talking about?! We have to go, we have to search.”

“There are more trees on the edge of the woods,” Amelia pointed, holding her painting up to the window.

“I don’t care about the trees -” the phone started ringing. As her granddaughter raced down the stairs, Amelia couldn’t take her eyes off the new trees. She knew what she had to do.

Amelia wasn’t as young as she once was. She rarely left her attic room. It took her all day to gather what she needed and make the journey through the town. By the time she reached the edge of the woods, it was twilight. Something had changed, she could feel it. As she approached the trees that she was sure had not been there the night before, she saw it. Etched into the bark was a face, a screaming face, only holes for eyes, melting down the trunk of the tree. This was a face she would recognise anywhere. It was Elsie. She turned, another, and another, she was surrounded by a forest of screaming faces. Amelia stumbled backwards, tripping on an upturned root. The last thing she saw was the first star twinkling in the night sky.

When she woke up, it was night. She had no idea where she was or how long she had been there. As her eyes adjusted, a flash of light blinded her again. The candle. Leshca stood in front of Amelia. Their form had changed. Amelia was staring into those amber eyes she knew so well. But this time it wasn’t Elsie.

“What have you done??” croaked Amelia.

“Your offspring came to visit me. When she opened the cabin she broke the spell.” It was Elsie's voice but not her words.

Amelia held back tears as she spoke. “My mother trapped you here, no one could get in or out. I know the spell, only she could break it, and she’s gone!”

“She may be gone, but she lives on through this child. When she opened the door last night, she broke the spell and I awoke.” Leshca smiled through Elsie’s lips.

“Did you take them all? Why? Why are you doing this?” Amelia cried.

“When I saw what you had done to my land–” Their eyes flashed that beautiful deadly emerald green and then back to amber. “–I protected them.”

“Who?” But Amelia already knew. Her eyes darted around the cabin.

“The trees, the animals, the land,” Lescha replied.

“Where are the children?” Amelia needed time.

“You know that already. Your mother told you the stories.” Lescha was starting to get restless.

Finally, Amelia saw what she had been searching for since she had first woken. Her bag, full of her mother’s tonics. Leshca watched Amelia and burst out laughing. Suddenly, her arms contorted back into the thin long vines. She grabbed the bag and screeched, “you think you can fool me twice! You may hurt us and trap us but we are older than you can ever imagine, we learn and adapt, and we grow. You can’t hurt me anymore.” Leshca’s face warped, their eyes melted down their face, and their hair began to smoke. In a flash Leshca’s hair was golden, and her face full of wrinkles. Amelia was staring back at herself. Leshca became very still. Her voice dropped to whisper. “You are too old and frail to harm me.”

An owl appeared in the window, grabbed the bag with its talons, and with one swoop Amelia’s last hope had vanished. She felt the little strength she had left drain from her body.

“They won’t forget, everyone in the town, they won’t give up. They will find you…” Amelia gasped.

“Some will look. Some will move and try to forget. Some will be consumed by grief and it will destroy them. Some may find me, and those that do, will join you. Bound forever in the woods, to feel the pain you’ve inflicted on us for centuries. You will feel and see everything but you will be silent.” Lescha was in their true form now. All six eyes glowed with rage.

Amelia could feel the room around her begin to melt away, a tightness wrapped around her arms and legs, she could barely see anymore.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be with them soon,” were the last words Amelia heard.

She didn’t open her eyes, she couldn’t open her eyes, but she was awake. She was shrouded in darkness and yet she could see. She could see the town. Her house. Her granddaughter crying. Her children searching. She tried to reach out but she couldn’t feel her arms, her fingers; she couldn’t move. She screamed but nothing came out.

The woods had one more tree, but there was no one left to count them.