In the distance, thick clouds signalling the start of the summer storm season threatened to roll across the bowl of the quarter moon and smother the stars that spilled from its mouth and into the dark expanse. With the impending storm approaching, the humid air filled with a cocktail of scents: sweet floral mixing with woody undertones and the sharp odour of crushed beetles.1
Cheeks streaked with tears, Jonathon fled through the manicured gardens of his parent’s estate. Heart pounding, he entered a thicket of trees. Leaves and twigs crunched under his feet, and tendrils of wild jasmine tangled through low-hanging branches reached out to snare him as he passed. He brushed the foliage away, the pungent fragrance of the pale flowers filling his nose.2
Jagged lightning slashed the impenetrable navy of the night sky, reminding Jonathon of what his grandmother used to tell him about the phenomenon; that it was the flash of God’s camera as he took photographs of His wondrous creation. Around him ordinary trees and bushes formed bizarre and monstrous shapes under a brief flash of brilliant light, bark bone white and leaves strangely clawed and pointed.3
He blinked more tears from his eyes as the lightning streaked again, white nails scratching the bleak chalkboard of the heavens. Ordinarily frightened of the terrific noise that accompanied the flashes, they bolstered his determination to flee, each clamorous sound confirmation of the injustices the cosmos had visited on his twelve-year-old life. 4
The air filled with the distinctive tang of ozone as the lightning rent the vast sky again and again. As the first of the heavy drops of warm rain fell, Jonathan thought that the raindrops must be the tears of the angels crying when they saw the pictures; much like his mother did when his father presented her with the photographs of his two younger sisters.5
At first, he didn’t understand. 6
After weeks of eager waiting, Beatrix and Madeline had finally left on the annual field trip the nuns from the convent ran every year. They departed the family estate a week previously, both in matching pinafores and their auburn ringlets caught up in high pigtails, with expectant grins plastered across their porcelain faces. 7
Less than a day later, their butler answered the door to the sombre-faced priest from the village. Jonathan watched from between the wooden balustrades of the curving staircase as his Mother listened to the murmurings of the man. The sound that came from his Mother’s throat, as she crumpled to the floor, tore through Jonathon and his hands clenched the runner on the stairs as something twisted horribly in his chest.8
Jonathan stared, transfixed, as Father came at a run from the study. With a hand on his Father’s arm, the priest whispered something that made Father’s face harden and his hands clench at his sides. Though he saw Jonathan, Father didn’t acknowledge him, but knelt beside Mother instead. When his Father rose to standing again, he spoke to the priest and then nodded at Jonathon.9
The following days blurred together as Jonathan came to realise that his sisters would not return, that he would never again chase them around the garden threatening to fill their pockets with frogspawn. After twin ceremonies earlier, he crept upstairs. Though curious, he never meant to look at the photographs his Mother had secreted away from that day, but he wished now that he hadn’t opened the bureau drawer.10
He barely recognised Trixie and Mady. 11
If not for their pinafores, he would have dismissed the bloated monstrosities as a gypsy carnival trick. He dropped the pictures with a pained screech and, before they could finish fluttering to the Oriental rug, he left the room at a panicked run.12
Though his feet grew tired now, and his chest hurt from his ragged breaths, he still ran. This time the rumble of thunder that followed a slash of lightning matched his heartbeat in ferocity. Distracted by wiping tears from his eyes with the back of his hand, he ducked too late below an overhanging branch and twigs grazed the tender skin of his face and neck.13
Screaming curses he only heard his Father mutter in anger, Jonathon flailed at the offending branch, earning further welts. Drops of rain splashed his skin and washed sweat and dirt into the wounds, and he sobbed more as they stung. 14
Disconcerted, he broke free from the vegetation and stumbled into a small clearing, fat globes of water falling from the sky with greater urgency as he stilled for a moment. With hands braced on his knees, he bent half-over, sucking in great gasps of air. Rain trickled across his scalp before dripping from the tousled hair that hung around his face. Water dribbled from the end of his nose and tips of his eyelashes, washing away his tears. 15
As he lifted his head to yell his sorrow to the Heavens, a bolt of blue-green light sizzled down near enough for him to feel its barely restrained power. Time stood still, his surroundings painted in an eerie tint as the lightning struck a twisted bough just to his right.16
The tree exploded. Thrown from his feet, Jonathon tumbled face first into the leaf litter. The world around him shattered into flying debris and a cascade of burning shards of bark. 17
Terrified, he pushed himself up, spitting out the leaves and dirt that had found their way into his mouth as he had fallen. The earthy and acrid taste of the leaves reminded him of the time he had accidently drunken the dregs of a cup of tea, and he made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat. Flames of fire licked what remained of the tree, but sputtered and weakened as the rain continued to fall.18
He pushed himself to his feet as another bolt of white light came down, but his knee buckled as agony swept up from his shin. He glanced down. Blinded by the lightning strike, he could see nothing. He sent his fingers to explore and felt the warm stickiness of something other than water dribbling down his leg. He lifted his hand to his nose. The unmistakable odour of blood confirmed why he hurt so badly and he let out a cry as he limped toward the shelter of trees.19
Careless with his step, the toe of his shoe caught on a tree root and he sprawled forward onto his hands and knees as another slash of light flashed behind him. He yelped as the fall jolted his injured shin. Driven by fear and pain, he scrambled to his feet, wet leaves clinging to his mud-drenched britches, and ran into the darkened woods once more.20
In unfamiliar territory now, he weaved haphazardly to avoid the wild tangled snares of vines and creepers. Brindled black and white stripes painted the trunks of the trees as more lightning flashed, and illuminated thousands of raindrops in midflight. 21
Another such flash and he swerved to avoid an upright wooden pole; the twisted engraved totem standing in stark incongruity to its natural setting. Jonathan slowed to a stop and stared, anxiously awaiting the next strobe of light to reveal more. It came seconds later and the strange image seared itself to his memory. Sharp planes and angular lines delineated bizarre features and symbols. 22
Unbeknownst to him, the totem symbolised nymphs and goddesses of Old, those that his ancestors worshipped, and those that his generation had long since forgotten. The wooden engraving represented wild magic, the magic that ran through the earth and everything that drew its sustenance from it. This primal magic, this essence of life, recognised Jonathon even though he did not know its power. It sought to satisfy the conditions of construction, carved by those of Old, to receive the unwilling offering of blood and fire and heart and rain and moon. 23
At that moment, the moon peeked from behind a cloud, its grin mocking the rain-drenched world. Heart still thudding against his chest, Jonathon caught a whiff a smoke on a tiny gust of wind as he turned his face to the moon. A single raindrop smacked into his face before racing down his neck, through his saturated clothes and then down his bloodied leg. Though insignificant on his body, once it departed and splashed to the ground it fulfilled the last condition of the totem.24
Answering the call of the magic, the wild wood around Jonathan sprung to life; roots and vines animated and snaked toward him, slipping through dead leaves and broken twigs. The summer storm paused and silenced, and Jonathan turned in a slow circle as he heard something approach.25
A snap followed by a crackle sounded to his right.26
Just a he focused on that, he heard a slithering to his left. Jonathan snatched a stick from the ground and thrust it out in front of him. 27
“Who’s there?” he asked between short, ragged breaths. He waved it around, hand shaking, hoping that whatever lurked in the dark would go away. As another twig snapped, he thought that this imagined ferocious beast had come to tear him limb from limb.28
No nightmarish beast lurked in the shadows, yet the sounds continued and Jonathan backed away. He didn’t see the other carved wooden totem lying discarded in a tangle of ivy, and so he crossed the gateway unknowing of what awaited him.29
More unexplainable noise and Jonathan dropped the stick and turned. The urgent need for flight replaced his paltry desire to fight, and so he fled with a scream. Ignoring everything: the pain in his leg, the resurgence of the storm and his misery, he ran, hands stretched out in front of him, snatching at the soaked foliage as it whipped his face.30
Another slither snapped at his heels, and he veered and a strobe of lightning showed him the way: two bramble hedges growing out of control and interweaved with each other. Another burst of light, and he could see another clearing beyond the tunnel of leaves. 31
A sound, eerie, otherworldly, reached his ears. He screamed as something snagged a heel and it spurred him to run faster. He entered the tunnel, pushing through with his hands and arms, and tearing away branches that dared to slow his progress. Glancing over his shoulder in another brief flash of lightning and he gasped at what he saw. Bramble bush intertwined to close off his retreat, and vines darted and snapped at his shirt as roots twisted on the ground toward his feet.32
They paused, ceasing their twisting and waving to regard him with curiosity, perturbed that he had caught them in motion. Boy and nature stared at each other for one drawn-out breath, and then they re-transformed into the personification of viciousness. 33
Jonathon heard a whisper – or may have imagined it, he wasn’t entirely certain – of something alive, something sentient, and he closed his eyes on the abomination and ran like he never had before. Eyes forward, he muttered that what he saw couldn’t be real, but somehow he knew they still chased him, were snapping at his heels and shoulders.34
Half-hysterical, he continued to run, but the clearing at the end of the tunnel never seemed to get closer. The terrifying rushing sound of slivering greenery was all that occupied his thoughts. 35
Abruptly, the end arrived. He leapt into freedom with the skin of his back tingling, but instead of his foot coming down on solid earth, he fell. Though the wind rushed past his ears, he heard nothing but the tha-thump of his heart in his ears before he fainted.36
***
Warm sunlight and fresh dew kissed Jonathon’s cheek as he opened his eyes with befuddlement. The recent memory of his bizarre flight curled about in the labyrinth of his mind with the same essence of a bad dream, and he blinked several times as he tried to reconcile what he saw with what he remembered. Dappled early morning sunlight flecked the forest floor in varying hues depending on the shade of the fallen leaves caught in its shaft. Though he imagined he should still be damp, his clothes felt as dry and as soft as they did when his Mother brought them in off the clothesline. 37
A bird chirped and when Jonathon turned his head to the songster, a figure blocked his view. A woman – or at least he saw her as such – stood in the clearing, regarding Jonathan with inquisitiveness. Instead of garbed in what he first took as the finest coloured silk, hundreds of assorted butterflies clung to her skin, their delicate wings overlapping as they danced to the tune of her movement. 38
She took a step toward him, and the butterflies shifted. A group near her knee drifted apart and he could see her skin, bark brown and mottled with mossy hues. Sensing his stare, the insects reformed into one, black-edged wings once more meeting. 39
Jonathon shifted his gaze and focused instead on her face. As beautiful as the trees surrounding her, her visage bespoke both wisdom and age. Azure eyes – like that of a winter’s sky just before snow – returned his stare. Hair the shade of harvest wheat framed her face. When she spoke through lips as red as crushed pomegranate, the sound enthralled him.40
“Come,” she said, her voice like the susurration of scales through dry summer grass, lilting, yet strangely hypnotic. She held out a hand for Jonathon, the fingers gnarled and the fingernails like pointed twigs.41
Jonathon sat up and accepted her hand, finding himself strangely bound to obey her captivating voice. Even though she appeared in the form of a woman, Jonathon knew within his soul that she was more than that. As he rose from the ground, his hand ensnared in hers, he glanced away from her form to observe his surroundings. 42
Mist hovered above the ground amongst the distant trees, shafts of sunlight outlined where the microscopic water droplets captured it. Large oaks and laurels surrounded the clearing and, much like the wood he had run through the night before, an assortment of vines and other underbrush populated the ground beneath their boughs. What struck him as startling was not the relative tranquillity of the landscape, but the figures that moved out from within it.43
Moving with careful deliberation, the forms detached themselves from the cloaking mist, hooves and feet and claws padding across the fallen leaves. Apart from the illustrations in his favourite storybooks, Jonathon had never dreamed he would meet such creatures in the flesh. 44
Across from him, a satyr emerged first and, with a smile, nodded a greeting. Awestruck mute, Jonathan gaped, unable to cease staring at the magnificent creature. Roan in colour, the satyr’s coat glistened faintly gold in the speckled sunlight, and muscles moved sinuously in his chest as he shifted weight from one hoof to another. 45
“That is Faunus, guardian of our Realm,” the woman said from where she stood beside Jonathon. “He will not harm you for as long as you wish to remain here.”46
Jonathon turned his gaze back to her, and asked with childhood innocence, “Who are you?”47
“I am known by many names or none at all, but you may call me Daphne. The Realm and all its inhabitants are mine.”48
Jonathon nodded, but before he could reply, a rumbling voice interrupted.49
“She is our Goddess and life, and without her we would surely perish,” Faunus stated. “She is one with all things alive, and they with her.”50
Puzzled, Jonathon looked up at the woman. “What does he mean?”51
She knelt beside him and, letting go of his hand, placed both of hers on his shoulders. “Close your eyes, child,” she commanded.52
Jonathon’s eyelids drooped and his eyelashes meet.53
“I am not as I seem,” she whispered, and he heard it not as a voice, but as an eddy of breeze against his ears. “As much as the inhabitants belong to me, I belong to them. I provide them with sustenance and shelter, and their continued existence means that I can exist also. Without them, I cannot remain in this form. Without me, the Realm would wither and die.”54
Vague images formed in Jonathon’s mind and he imagined that he could see the bond Daphne had with everything around her. Bright silvery lines, glimmering like a dew-infused spider’s web in the early light of day, reached out to connect with and encompass every living thing around her: human, creature and plant alike. 55
Jonathon felt one of her hands lift and then cup his face. 56
“Do you understand, child?” 57
He opened his eyes. “Yes,” he breathed. In front of him, she smiled and he felt his heart lift with joy. He heard a fluttering of wings followed by the sensation of something encircling his head. He reached a hand up, but Daphne caught it.58
“Do not worry, child, it is but a gift.”59
Jonathon glanced up to where he heard the wings and gasped. Instead of what he mistook for a hummingbird, a tiny winged girl, with pale jade skin, winked and waved at him. Unsure of what to do, he simply waved back.60
The Faerie smirked and then tumbled in the air a couple of times before darting off into a stand of trees. Jonathon followed her progress and was surprised to see more of her kind peeking out from behind leaves. 61
He would have stared at the wonder for hours had his attention not been distracted again. Entering the clearing from behind a large oak, taking one graceful step at a time with its long twisted cream horn preceding it, a unicorn came forward. It bowed its head and snuffled the leaves where Jonathon had previously lain before lifting its proud head and shaking its mane.62
Beside Jonathon, Daphne beckoned the unicorn in a language he had never heard, and the beast meekly obeyed. It came alongside him and rubbed its cheek against his thigh. Unprepared for the hidden strength of the unicorn, Jonathon nearly lost his balance, and he reached out a hand to steady himself. Instead of shying away as his hand touched its shoulder, the unicorn just lifted its head, fixed Jonathan with a stare and snorted. 63
Abruptly, Jonathon felt himself lifted from the ground. Before he could cry out in alarm, he found himself high on the back of the unicorn, with Daphne grinning at him with bemusement. 64
“All is well, my child. No harm will befall you here.”65
Having only ridden properly tacked ponies, Jonathon took no comfort in her words, and instead twisted his hands in the unicorn’s coarse mane. Beneath him, the unicorn shifted and twitched.66
Daphne stroked the unicorn’s flank, and the beast shivered and then calmed. She spoke again in the strange language and, as she strode off across the clearing, the unicorn followed as well. 67
At the edges of the clearing, as the mist rolled back, Jonathon could see other people – men, women and two children – dropping to bended knee as Daphne and her odd procession passed them by. Swarthy of skin, the adults wore little, but the children he saw were milky-skinned like him. One, a girl younger than him, wore a decadent gown of lacy layers, and the other, a boy – perhaps a few years older – wore a fashion Jonathon had never seen. Though the boy dropped to his knee, he glared defiantly at Daphne. 68
“You must be hungry, child.” 69
At hearing her voice, Jonathon shifted his focus from the other boy. When he glanced back, the boy had gone. Almost as if she commanded it, his stomach rumbled.70
“We prepared a feast in your honour, to welcome you to the Realm,” she said as she guided the unicorn from the clearing and through the trees. 71
Though Jonathon could see no discernable path, Daphne trod through the thicket as though the way was clear. The people that had bowed in her honour followed behind silently. He could make out the satyr from time to time through the trees a distance away to his left, keeping pace with them. 72
Though walking leisurely, they soon reached a small village within the forest filled with misshapen rough-hewn stone cottages with thatched roofs. Each cottage had a solid wooden door and shuttered windows, and thick moss covered most of dark grey stone. What section of stone wasn’t overgrown with moss was mottled with lichen, as if the cottages had grown from the forest floor itself. Creeping vines hung from eaves and roots from the surrounding trees hugged most of the walls. 73
The cottages sat equidistant around a clearing. At the centre were communal hearths and one long solid wood table pilled high with a variety of freshly prepared food. A breeze wafted the smell of spit-roasted boar in his direction, and Jonathon’s stomach rumbled louder than before. 74
Beside him, Daphne stopped the unicorn and then lifted Jonathon from its back. Though she did so without warning him, he did not startle as he had before. In response to a whispered word from her, the unicorn drifted back into the trees and soon disappeared from view. 75
“My people will care for you. All you need do is ask, child,” she said as she turned away.76
Jonathon walked to the table and then turned with consternation when he realised that she did not follow. He opened his mouth to query her reluctance, but she answered his unspoken question.77
“I will not be joining the feast, child. Though I tire, I must renew my energy another way.”78
Jonathon scowled, puzzled. 79
“Go,” she commanded, and the butterflies on her shifted uneasily. Some at the edges dropped to the ground in a spiralling flutter, where they beat their wings once or twice before stilling. 80
He dropped his eyes to one particular magnificent Cardinal butterfly that detached itself from her chest. As soon as touched the ground, it shuddered violently before its wings curled in on itself, fraying and losing colour until it was just a husk of beauty.81
“Go!”82
Jonathon remained standing where he was. Before his disbelieving eyes, Daphne changed. 83
Her skin darkened and hardened, variegated lines streaking up her limbs. Her legs melded together and her feet elongated, racing across the forest floor before plunging in hard ground, twisting as they buried themselves into the earth. As more butterflies dropped away, a hard sheaf of bark encompassed her, and the patches of green on her skin blossomed as thick lichen and moss. Lastly, she threw her head back and her arms high. Her arms hardened and her fingers lengthened into branches tipped with the leaves of a laurel. Finally, her golden locks whipped around her in a fury before cocooning her face.84
Jonathon staggered back in shock at the transformation. As his legs folded under him, a warm arm scooped him around the middle and whisked him away from the scene.85
***
Jonathon awoke to the smell of wood fire and the sound of merry voices. He found himself against the bosom of a large woman, the crook of her arm about his shoulders. Though comfortable, his empty stomach twisted with a spasm of hunger. He lifted his head and yawned, drawing the attention of the woman.86
“We ‘ere was wond’rin when ye would awake,” she said and then chortled with laughter, her bosom bouncing under his shoulder.87
“Daphne…”88
“Be not addressing the Goddess as thee, boy,” said a man across the table. Craggy features and eyes darker than a deep well regarded Jonathon. 89
“But she told me her name!” Jonathon protested.90
The chatter at the table ceased and the man scowled, his heavy features drawing together. “Thee must not call her by her heathen name. She shall be known as thy Goddess till forever more.”91
Jonathon dropped his eyes and then furtively scanned all the others sitting at the table. They were the people he had seen earlier, all with darker skin than he and deep brown hair and eyes. All appeared to be of the same tribe or clan, and all that met his eyes did so with measured stares. 92
Beside him, the woman removed the arm from around his shoulders. Before he could question why, a rough clay plate slapped down on the table in front of him, followed by a generous serving of roast meat and vegetables. 93
“Eat, boy. And thanks be to the Goddess,” the woman muttered. Around the table, the others repeated the last in hushed whispered before the conversation resumed.94
Jonathon ate. He barely noticed the others around him as he shovelled food into his mouth and swallowed after chewing a couple of times. Finally, he licked his fingers clean before he realised what his Mother told him about the habit. Across from him, the man laughed at his look of embarrassment. 95
“Ye were given fingers for a reason, boy. Ye used them well.”96
Jonathon burped and then slapped his hand over his mouth. Raucous cheering ensued. 97
“Thy have heard none grander,” the man said with a grin. 98
As Jonathon pushed the plate away, something small and hard hit him in the back. Ignoring the stare of the man across the table, Jonathon twisted around. Another projectile hit him square between the eyes. “Ow!” he cried out, smacking a hand over where the offending item hit as he scanned the forest.99
Jonathon caught sight of the boy just as the other loosed another rock from the slingshot he was holding. Jonathon ducked and the rock scuttled across the top of the table. The man across the table scowled and threw the pebble back. Forgetting about the man’s reaction, Jonathon jumped down from where he’d been sitting and ran at the boy.100
Seeing him coming, the boy grinned impishly before loading another pebble into the slingshot and firing it at Jonathon, who skipped to avoid it. Another couple of steps and he leapt at the boy, wrestling him to the ground with a growl.101
“Gedoffme!” the other boy said, his voice muffled due to Jonathan grinding his face into the ground.102
“Why’d you do that? Tell me or I’ll break it,” Jonathon replied as he held the slingshot with his free hand. Underneath him, the other boy struggled.103
“I needed to get your attention,” he replied through a mouthful of leaves. 104
Jonathon rolled off the boy and stood up. He pocketed the slingshot. “Why?”105
“Don’t trust ‘em,” the boy said, thrusting a thumb over his shoulder at the adults. He lowered his voice. “And ‘specially not the Freak.”106
Jonathon scowled. “Who?”107
“The Goddess. Daphne. Whatever else she’s calling herself these days. Best thing you can do is get out of ‘ere ‘fore it’s too late.”108
“What you mean, ‘too late’?”109
“Look,” the boy said with exasperation as he grabbed Jonathon by the shoulder and pushed him deeper into the forest. “Place looks normal now, but once the storm passes you’ll be stuck. Right ‘ere. Forever. No going back.”110
Jonathon glanced back at the village. In the tress between, he could see faeries dancing in the branches. What the other boy told him didn’t make sense. The Daphne woman was somewhat strange, but everything here was nice. The food in his stomach gave him a warm glow of satisfaction.111
The other boy must have seen the look of Jonathon’s face, because he struck him with an open hand.112
With tears in his eyes, Jonathon stepped back. 113
“Get out of ‘ere,” the other boy repeated. 114
“How?” Jonathon asked as his cheek stung from the blow.115
The boy sighed. “Find your way back. Go back to where you woke up. The Entrance should be close. Don’t dawdle. I dawdled, and I’ve been stuck ‘ere ever since.”116
Jonathon watched the other boy avert his face and understood why. “What’s your name?”117
The boy refused to turn back. “Theodore. Ted to my friends.”118
“How long have you been here?” 119
“I don’t know. What year is it?”120
Jonathon puzzled over the question, wondering why Ted would ask for the year and not the date. “1896.”121
Ted smeared the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand. “Sixty-four years,” he said after some counting and recounting on his fingers. “I had been here only thirty-nine years when Penelope came through.” 122
He sighed again as Jonathon stood, dumbstruck, his brain trying but failing to process this newest information. 123
“She tried to go back, but couldn’t find the Entrance.” Ted gazed intently at Jonathon, his hazel eyes penetrating deep into Jonathon’s soul. “You need to leave.”124
Jonathon finally found his tongue. “How? How is this possible? You don’t look old. You should look old…”125
“I don’t know. Time is… forever ‘ere. When dusk falls everyone sleeps, and when we wake up it is as if time never passed and yet so many years have sped by.” Ted tilted his head and observed the sky for a moment. “You must go.”126
“The storm has already stopped,” Jonathon said, his mind striking out for the one plausible explanation.127
Ted shook his head. “No. In the real world, it continues. If it had stopped, it would be dusk ‘ere and too late for you to return.”128
Jonathon looked into the forest, trying to remember the way that he had come on the back of the unicorn. “Come with me.”129
“I can’t. Only one person can return through the Entrance. Don’t worry about me – my family is long dead. Save yourself.”130
“I don’t know the way.”131
Ted ran a hand through his chestnut hair before using it to nudge Jonathon forward. “You know the way in your heart. Close your eyes and let it guide you.”132
Jonathon did so, and took a deep breath in. As he let it out, motes of light swirled in against the back of his eyelids. With another inhale and exhale, these tiny pinpricks of light coalesced, outlining trees and undergrowth, and interweaved between them, a shimmering pathway. His eyes flew open in surprise, and he turned to tell Ted of the wonder, but found that the other boy had disappeared.133
Jonathon swivelled on the spot, trying to discover where Ted had gone. He finished the revolution and shrugged. As he made to close his eyes again, a faerie fluttered down and poked him in the face. Jonathon waved his hand at her, and the tiny creature zipped away, peals of laughter tinkling behind her.134
Disregarding the urgency of Ted’s warning, Jonathon smiled and chased after her. Now he knew how to get back, he reasoned to himself that all he needed to do was to observe the sky; dusk had to be hours away. Full of energy from the meal, he played hide-and-seek with the cheeky faerie, forgetting about everything and just living with wild abandon in the moment.135
Distracted and preoccupied he hardly noticed the day waning, it was only after one of the faeries shot up toward the sky that he realised the light was rapidly fading. His heart sank, and a bitter taste crept into the back of his throat. He turned his back on the faerie and closed his eyes once more.136
The same motes of light filled his mind, but they were restless, darting about directionless. A few here and there formed into small bushes, but the clear image of the pathway was lost. Tears prickling his eyes, Jonathon took several deliberate breaths, but still the light refused to unite. He squeezed his eye together, scrunching his brow with concentration. This time they formed together, but as he took a step forward, they burst apart and dissipated into nothing.137
“No!” he yelled and opened his eyes.138
Ted stood in front of him in the rapidly dying light. “You are a fool.”139
“I want to go home!”140
“The Entrance is no longer open. I warned you. I told you to leave!”141
“The faeries…”142
“The faeries are part of the enchantment. Once you are ensnared in this Realm they no longer care to play with you.” Ted turned and walked away.143
Jonathon ran after him. “Wait! Where are you going?”144
“To my resting place. Find your own,” he snapped, shrugging Jonathon’s hand from his shoulder.145
Jonathon stood and watched Ted leave, fresh tears coursing down his cheeks. A faerie flew past and raked her tiny sharp nails across his cheek. She hovered in front of him and smirked cruelly.146
“Why?”147
The faerie said nothing before flying into the dark. Jonathon trudged the short distance to a tree. He sat down and drew his knees to his chest as the last of the light faded.148
*** 149
The last of the summer storm rolled away as the sun rose on the saturated countryside. Its radiance intensified the hues of the landscape: the crimson roses of the gardens around the estate, the vibrant verdant of the grass, the ochre and russet of fallen leaves, even the black scar on a grey bough left by the lightning. Its brilliance caressed everything with warmth, even the wooden carvings deep within forest.150
It was into this superb morning that a search party went. Gerald Abercrombie, father of three, having only recently lost his daughters, now searched for his last living child and first born son. A beagle at his heel, he pushed through the undergrowth, the silence of the pleasant morning shattered by his shouts. The yells started as angry exclamations, promises of a hiding for Jonathon’s thoughtless actions. They soon deepened to hopelessness as he pushed further into the wilder sections; he knew beasts frequented these and his despondency grew.151
Hours passed, other people joined the hunt, and soon most of the townsfolk strode shoulder-to-shoulder through the undergrowth. Mid-afternoon, Gerald paused for a breath on almost the same spot where he son had stood in front of the totem. However, all he saw were the charred remains of a lightning strike, the totem nothing but a pile of wood ashes.152
Gerald took a sip of water from his flask and wiped the sweat from his brow before plunging through the foliage once more. Minutes later, he stopped and stared.153
Arrayed in front of him were the most stunning sculptures he had ever seen in his life. Near his right, and close enough to touch, stood a stone effigy of a unicorn. He ran his hand over its form. With the warmth of the day, the stone felt warm, and he imagined, should he close his eyes, the beast would be almost lifelike.154
A pang of sorrow passed through him, if only his son could see this; Jonathon so loved the stories that his wife had diligently read to the children at their bedtime. He turned away and saw more sculptures: a group of faeries sat along the trunk of a fallen tree. Walking reverently into the garden, he espied an ancient cottage, outside of which were a group of life-size men and women carved from wood.155
So enraptured was he by the craftsmanship demonstrated, he missed the wooden sculpture of a small boy. 156
Positioned against an old oak, the boy sat with his knees drawn to his chest, and his eyes fixed forever on the twisting laurel in the clearing across from him.157
Author notes
Option 3 and http://tigerzi.deviantart.com/art/Nature-Dryad-19717959
For those people that don't know Greek mythology, Daphne was a nymph that fell into a chasm - never to seen again - but when the earth closed up, a laurel grew in her place. Wood nymphs - especially those of the laurel are thus known as Daphnaies. Satyrs are protectors and companions of nymphs, and Faunus is the name of a god of the countryside, but it is also a slight play on words, as a Faun is another name for a Satyr.
This story is my take on what happened to Daphne - that she founded her own little realm - giving life to those that reside within - but with a catch - they only live when someone chooses to join them. At one stage (with the totems) an older race of people would have sent people through the gateway, but the ways were forgotten and only those, like Jonathon that stumbled through, would awaken the Realm and allow them to live for another day.
And this is my first proper 'fantasy' - I'd like to know if it is any good.
For contests:
SN: tallblondie
A contest entry
- -- RJ's Royal Rumble -- by RxxSpiritWolfxxJ.
400 points, ended January 20, 7 entries
Honorable mention
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - Write Me a Story by ice wolf.
525 points, ended February 13, 15 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - Image Write by Host.
240 points, ended February 5, 6 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - Quarter Finals Round-The Best Writer Ever!!!! by MoonRoseWolf.
315 points, ended February 14, 9 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - Greek Mythology by My Antonia.
130 points, ended March 17, 10 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - The Three Options by Cupcake14.
150 points, ended May 20, 12 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - Can you imagine a place...? by Colourful.
175 points, ended May 21, 16 entries
Honorable mention
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - Stormy Nights by shadowchild25.
600 points, ended July 3, 19 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - Unique Fantasy Contest by silkenwolf.
250 points, ended July 28, 24 entries
Honorable mention
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - Modern Mythology by Embitter.
170 points, ended August 13, 4 entries
• next story in this contest, • Add to finalists list, or remove from contest - We're All Mad Here by Lady Pixie.
350 points, ended August 17, 12 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - Mythical by Lady Mannequin.
124 points, ended August 29, 13 entries
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - I'm In The Mood For Fantasy by HopefulSoul.
300 points, ended October 13, 34 entries
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - Anything!! by Mistress Cheetah.
180 points, ended October 23, 19 entries
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - Almost Anything by Dr. Psycho.
375 points, ends December 1, 54 entries
• next story in this contest, • Add to finalists list, or remove from contest - There's Something Sexy About the Rain by therenaissancegirl.
425 points, ends December 5, 14 entries
• next story in this contest, • Add to finalists list, or remove from contest
Comments
1 - 30 of 30
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This was great! It's a perfect fantasy story, with a hint of Narnia in there. Your lengthy descriptions make this novel worthy, I wouldn't mind buying off the shelf at the bookstore.
I need to read more creative stories like this!!!
But overall, this is a 9.7/10. I didn't find any noticeable spelling or grammatical mistakes, so fantastic job!
Good luck, and thank you for entering.
~ Dr. Psycho
beginning: 4, language: 5, plot: 5, ending: 5, dialog: 5, characters: 5.
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Excellent. I love the ending. It's wonderful.
good luck on the contest. I did not know some words though, but I can't really fault you for that. well, so long!
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Well, it was a little long, but as I said, I have a lot of free time on my hands! Beautiful beginig and ending! And your imagery and creativity really was what got me started here.
Keep it up!
Thankyou and Good luck
kokofuto
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I love your use of imagery, beautiful characterisation as well, I can't say enough, call me biased but I like all your work
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I liked this tale especially the whole myth part behind it.
Thanks for entering my contest. -
This is wonderful!! I loved the amazing visuals and details put into this and found myself captivated with the storyline. Most importantly, I loved the characterization and dialogue.
It was quite an enjoyable read, despite the length. The length didn't phase me a bit... because I feel that if something is good and can hold my interest such as this, the wordcount isn't important. You made this world and the characters very believable. I felt sympathy for Jonathon... and for his family. And the ending was particularly fitting and left me in awe, sorrow, and surprise.
I did notice a small error and I hope you don't mind me pointing it out:
in P's 8,9 and 10 I noticed that the name was spelled 'Jonathan' while throughout the rest of the story, it was spelled 'Jonathon'.
Just a small thing I noticed
Overall, I didn't catch anything else.
I thank you very much for entering this in "We're All Mad Here"!! 
~ Lady Pixie
beginning: 4, language: 5, plot: 5, ending: 5, dialog: 5, characters: 5.
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Beautifully written. This was spellbinding, your description was wonderful. It gave brilliant imagery. This was very original and imaginative. It was also slightly horrifying at the thought of this mysterious realm that Jonathon would be trapped in forever. Spooky! However at the beginning, it was a bit slow and I did wonder for a while where it was headed but it found direction when we met the totem. But this was only a minor thing really. I loved the way you took Greek mythology and made it into your own. Well done you are a very talented writer. Thank you for entering my contest.
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Wow. Just plain wow. So descriptive, so original. I am astounded on so many levels. I could literally see everything as I was reading it. It was, however, a little draggy in some places. It went a little to slow there for my tastes. But I loved it nonetheless. Thank you for entering my contest, and good luck. I'm really happy I got to read something like this.
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That was a very descriptive and original piece of writing and definitely being added to the finalists list. The beginning was a little too long for my taste, as I would have liked things to move on a bit quicker, but it was also descriptive and the whole magic effect as you moved on into the story really entranced me. You are a gifted writer I must say and I enjoyed your story very much... does that sound offensive? Because I am still a child and you are an adult... I'm sorry if I said anything rude.
Good luck in the contest!
--Moon Child
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Lovely, interesting, drawing piece of work. I sincerely enjoyed reading this, and hope you won't mind if I make you a finalist in my contest Can You Imagine a Place...?
Eva~
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Hi blondie. I've read this before, but no harm reading this again.
Lovely story with vivid and enchanting descriptions. The end still brings a lump to my throat-and I think that's what determines the ability of a horror story-to bring that lump even when you're reading it for the second time.
Even though I'm the kind that gets easily bored with long descriptions, it was a pleasure to read this again!
Best of luck in the contest!
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I love greek mythology! Great story! i think it could have been shorter, it seemed to be kinda streched thin and there were some bare kinda dry spots, but otherwise great story and plot
GOOD LUCK!
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Not bad kinda dragged on toward the middle but over all not bad at all.
beginning: 1, language: 2, plot: 2, ending: 2, dialog: 2, characters: 3.
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I remember reading this! it was worth the second read. good job. *smiles*
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This was a really enjoyable piece. I am really impressed at the intricacy and imagination you used in taking an old myth and really making it your own.
I thought you set the mood very well, never letting me feel quite at ease with the fantasy world, despite all of the beauty that you described so well. Great job. -
An interesting tale. I liked the greek mythology behind it.
While I love the color and description of the opening, is it necessary to have 20 paragraphs worth before we get to the totem? That said, though it was a slow start, it wasn't enough to make me stop reading. Once it got past this point it started moving nicely.
p23 "Unbeknownst to him," everything up to this point (and after) has been from his perspective, why the sudden interruption from the narrator? Is there some way he can learn this through his eyes?
p24 I like how everything happened just right to fulfill the call of magic, very creative way to start it.
p27 "Just a he focused on that," should be "as"
p81 "As soon as touched the ground, " I think you're missing "it" in-between "as" and "touched"
p101 I'm assuming the magic cured his bad leg, otherwise he shouldn't be able to run so.
About the only thing I'm not sure I understand is why were the butterflies dying? I think maybe it's because of his indecision but I'm not sure.
Nicely done.
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I loved this!
I especially love greek mythology, so this was a really easy story for me to get into anyway
I thought the language you used was descriptive and made the story flow really well, also there were no spelling or grammer mistakes I could find, but then again, that's not surprising for one of your stories
I loved how first it seemed like a sanctuary, but then became the opposite-I felt so sorry for Johnathon at the end.
Overall I thought this was a really great entry and thoroughly enjoyed reading it. Well done and good luck in the contest!
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Again, nicely done. This is another one that I didn't mind re-reading. the fact that you're spelling faerie in olde-english won brownie points for the story. I'm a sucker for old-english in words like that. great job and I'll let everyone know the final decision on Saturday.
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Chalkboards of heaven, eerie, staggered. Strong vocab man. It's pretty good. There are some imperfections. Such as his name...Johnathan is okay but long and boring and this piece is anything if not boring. ( meaning I liked it )
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ps. I like the irony you put in the story, first through the use of the title sanctuary and then through first building the scenes so that it seemed that Jonathan was indeed safe in the other realm....then crashing it right down and the sanctuary wasn't so safe after all. Nice use of it her
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WOW. NO seriously. WOW. The adrenaline and the pace was just right for this story. I love how you lay out your scenes and how each flows into the next and while there is differentiation between scenes the links between them are clear. I LOVE THE ENDING. That simple statement about the statue of a boy.
I find that you build upon the existing notions of fantasy and incooperate them quite well into this peice. For example, you use the unicorns and faeries and satyrs. Things of the other realm that most readers, even if they are not partial to the genre, are at least familiar with. Your blending of these familiar "stereotypes" with mythology and with your own take on fantasy, introduces a style that will definitely blow any reader away.
I dont care if they dont like fantasy or mythology, the style is whoa!
My main problem with the story was the choice font colour against background but that may be more due to me rather than the colour itself.
3 thumbs up.
I would really have liked to get a bit more detail about the sisters but the story wasn't really about them. I assume you were only using them as the literary vehicle to get your protagonist to the point of entering the other realm which is where I picked up(maybe I was wrong) you wanted the reader's attention to focus.
You did surprise me(was not a bad surprise) when they were not in the other realm. I was kind of feeling that your story was leaning that way but I can't complain. What you did with the storyline more than made up for that.
All in All, the pace, the story line, the imagery, the choice of words, the scene lay out, the characters made for an excellent read.
God bless with your writing. I hope you indeed continue to keep it up.
And First fantasy... Maybe in writing one. But I'm sure you have conjured many mental story images within the domain of fantasy over the years.
beginning: 4, language: 5, plot: 5, ending: 4, dialog: 4, characters: 4.
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I really enjoyed this, it had alot of discription. I pictured the whole thing in my head, For your fist Fantasy ,I'm surprised. You did great and good luck in the contest.Host
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A pang of sorrow passed through him, if only his son could see this; Jonathon so loved the stories that his wife had diligently read to the children at their bedtime. He turned away and saw more sculptures: a group of faeries sat along the trunk of a fallen tree. Walking reverently into the garden, he espied an ancient cottage, outside of which were a group of life-size men and women carved from wood.
This is a very... cool and amazing and great and interesting and enthralling story!
My God, I love your writing, and this is one of the best! Extremely great style of writng, and an amzing way of describing everything
Great job!
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this is cool(:
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this is pretty nice, and i see that your option choice is fantasy. would you mind putting your username in your authors notes though, please? i actually don't have any suggestions on making this better. it's really good to me. expect another comment when i judge, okay?
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You already know what I think of it, just popping by to give my applause.
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this is amazing, I liked it, a lot!!!!! I love Greek mythology!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! it's like my favorite thing...anyway good job!!!!
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Hm. You were right. It was kinda long.
But hey, it was worth the time. Your first proper fantasy's sure to be a hit - I saw nothing major wrong with it, on the contrary, I was enrapt from beginning to end.
A well wound narrative - but must you make all your stories end sadly? I felt sorry for the poor lad stuck in that Realm forever ... and the part where his father stood and admired the statues that were actually the Realm was the corker.
Another heck of a story. I think I'm gonna read this over again later.
Good luck!
RJ
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extremely intriguing. i couldn't stop reading it. my mind just begged for more as i followed the story.
you did an amazing job bringing the characters to life (literally) lol and i greatly enjoyed the descriptions of daphne and how the butterflies covered her, and also when she transformed.
i wondered at first about the boy who glared at daphne, but his role in this story made me ache for him. i thoroughly enjoyed reading this
you are very talented, great work!!
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Whoah, this is awesome, and I mean awesome...
I don't like reading long stories, but I was kept interested in this the whole time... I also love reading fantasy, and this was excellent!
The way you write is effective too, your charactors arn't 2d, like in most stories,
This truley was a great story!
~Cat
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