Where Spirits Dwell

They wandered the ageless forest for an indeterminable amount of time. As they plowed deeper into the ever growing wood, the life inside it began to quiet, until an unnatural silence was all that met their ears.

Even Skylar seemed agitated and restless, at least as much as she was capable of showing. They were already developing a strange bond, a part of her emotions were being transferred to him, setting him on edge. He had never seen, or expected, this, her normal aura of calm and peace was overtaken by a queer paranoia. Her anxiety reached a climax as they emerged into a clearing.

It was a small, strange, almost spiritual place. It was as if he was looking at the very heart of the forest, its core, its central being. He focused on Skylar as he noticed, once again, her heightened timorous sensitivity. She was beyond fear as her ethereal eyes flashed, while she stalked the clearing like a caged lioness. He noticed, truly noticed, for the first time that she wasn’t a ghost, a lost soul, but something more, something ancient.

Ancient, that was the word; there was something about this place. It was devoid of the natural flow of space and time. A new universal set of laws seemed to rule the glade, like another world, or dimension.

He was softly nudged out of his revelation by the gentle brush of a downy material against his cheek. He looked down to view a feather of a pure, untainted, white. It was in a nonchalant downward spiral reaching the grass, the end of its journey. It radiated a serenity he had failed to witness in his short life. He raised his gaze upwards to see three other immaculate feathers on their own, unhurried, individual pilgrimage. Searching for their origins he looked up even higher than before. Then he saw it, an unblemished creature, the unchallenged creator of the colour; white.

A natural, ever moving, tapestry; gliding earthward in a glorious, unrivaled, descent. As she, and it was a she, radiating an unmistakable feminine air, descended she showed a unique grace. A lack of haste, so unlike the two legged inhabitants of the common world. She landed with a small emission of air, and then seemed to meld and change, mid movement. Unviewable in soft rays of sunlight, she emerged a different being, something like a woman.

Simple, white robes, adorned her make-shift form. Long, snowy hair cascaded behind her. She seemed preoccupied, her deep stare lost in the distance. Then she turned her gaze towards him. Her inhuman, pale blue eyes stabbed at him; they seemed to pierce his very soul. Every part of him, every speck, was swept before her, the silver platter of his life. He was lost in the temporary search of those eyes. After a moment, they let him go, back to his now, laid bare, soul.

A voice reverberated throughout the air. Its words were quiet but their tone echoed of ancient authority.

“Child, guided by fate, you have finally arrived. I have waited here for you, since Saga graced me with the sight of your journey. Be quiet and be strong, as I show you what wisdom I have to offer. You may call me Neviah Verity, Monster and your predestined seer.”