The Enchanted Glade

The Enchanted Glade

“Welcome to the enchanted wood or neverland as it's often called among morals. Here you will be able to start your path, where it will take it is for you alone to know. You could end up as a powerful long lived mage, a druid living with nature in the woods, even an alchemist whose knowledge for greatness will lead to terrible follys and an early painful death. All paths lay before you here at this starting point, this tree of possibilities.” The red cloaked figure moved to gesture the great tree around them, the many paths and twisting branches that moved along parallel with the ground, and rising high up into the tree top, even some that dipped down into the caverns in the ground.

“But this path will not be your own to follow, you will have...help or a partner through it all. A partner that will share in both your joy and sorrow, your success and even in death.” This time the figure stooped low and placed a hand on the mossy at their feet. A sudden surge of warmth with the feelings of joy and happiness flowed through the area, the feeling of life in a wind blown down a mountain after a gentle rain passed through the air. Followed by bone chilling deep cold of winter, or endless depths of water in frozen lakes, the smell of rotting vegetation, the feeling of disorder and sadness, after being lost in the woods, alone in the dark with no one to call out for, and a dread too strong for words.

“You will have to find your partner, your counterpart, your familiar, whatever you call it or it calls itself. They will be bound to you as you will be bound to them.” At this, figures started to appear, some shimmering out of light, others seemed to be plants that grew up into place in just moments. Some seemed to appear out of shadows never fully coming into the light. Others still seemed to be living animals and bugs that only seemed to appear as if pulled into this reality from one moment to the next. While some were small and seemed harmless others were large and grotesque in appearance.

Looking around at the sudden appearance of so many odd different and unrecognizable features and figures. Some were so dark hidden in shadows that they couldn’t be seen, only felt as if an oily present stared out. The light some gave off was so strong that they could only be glanced at. Others looked like sweet flowers or adorable pets seen in children's books. The more monstrous had multiple limbs fit only for a nightmare of claws and teeth.

How could someone pick just one? How could someone be expected to know what specific being would be the best for the path they wanted to take, or would selecting one being over another place down a path they didn’t want to travel down? The sudden feeling of falling, of being so out of control was too much and they took a step back caused them to stumble. Landing hard with a thump and looking around with wide eyes at all the paths and possibilities that seemed endless before them, their eyes went wide, hands moving up to cover their mouth as they started to trimble. “How can one person choose something so important, so grand?”

With an almost manic chuckle the figure in red stood up and stretched both hands out. “Often they can’t and in doing so they never leave this place. With no partner and no path to follow they die, if they are lucky. If they are not then they become timeless bound to wonder this place, a dull reflection of their previous selt, until they are themselves selected from, forever waiting to be picked, placing themself in the hands of another due to their own indecision.”

The full panic of realization of how real and confusing this was started to settle its weight on them, why had they even been selected for this? Why did they have to select this kind of path, this kind of life? Closing their eyes to the possibilities before them and trying hard to block out the ringing laughing. Hands still trembling at the thought of reaching out to one of the things filled them with dread and terror.

They seemed to be able to do nothing to slow their racing heart, the panicked gasping of breath was just as harsh as the biting laughter. Covering their head with both hands trying to block out the dizzying world around them they let out a sob, feeling they would soon be locked in this maze of endless possibilities forever.

A gentle touch at the back of their head pulled them back to the moment, just a rustle of their hair as if touched by a passing breeze. The light calming scent of wood burning, of a rich and hearty soup filled the art. Looking up they found the figure in red, still standing, still laughing but the sound was so far away now so distant that it was almost a memory. Before them hovering just a hand's length over the grassy forest floor was light, glowing soft light, like that of a sunrise just before full daybreak. The warmth and and feeling of a new day of new possibilities radiated out of the light and as they watched it took shape.

The shape was a fuzzy outline at first almost a circle, or an oval that changed again almost as soon as it was recognizable. Shifting into what looked to be several ovals all connected and squished together. Another shift and the shape now looked more like a human, a head, arms, a body but with what looked like a flowing tail or trail of mist where the legs should be. Large butterfly shaped wings were the next shift that was added. Still just a soft warm light the shape had no features, details of extra colors, and rather than being harsh and hard to look at like the sun, it was cool and inviting, the soft glowing light, a comfort to enjoy.

“Wh-what are you?” They ask as they slowly lowered their hands looking at the odd light or now figure before them. The warmth and feeling that seemed to emanate off the figure had them relaxing, the worry and concern from before that felt so crushing was lifting almost as though it had never been there. The panic and dread that had taken hold so quickly already washing away before the warmth of the light.

The light continued to refine its shape, still taking on soft facial features, detailed feather patterns along the wings, and what seems to be a flowing gown that still had whips or a trail of light in place of feet. Even with the features the figure still made of light was no taller than a common utensil used for eating, like a fork or spoon. The figure seemed to copy the gesture, emulating the movement of its hands away from its head, then tilted its head as if hearing for the first time. Taking a moment to consider itself and then the one addressing it with the question. With a smile as warm and friendly as the light it gave off the only answer it gave was “A friendly path.”