the young girl walked around in the swamp. it was dark, the water thick and grey; she stepped over crawling things, and touched leaves, humming in the deepening green shadows. her ears twitched; a soft voice, sad and cold, floated through the low branches.
she looked about, her eyes glowing like coals, but could see nothing. the air was wet and rich with the mossy scent of lifedeath , the night before her inky like a wall. the song made her shiver: she knew this language; she thought she was the only one. it called her name her real name: help me xilorelle, oh help us, for the autumn king has come!
then! the trees moaned, the wind rose, the swamp trees and water taking a deep breath. it tossed her yellow hair, made her little horns itch. mud sloshed in her shoes. “well!” she said to a passing beetle, “i have no idea what that means at all!” and she sat down on a rock to think.
she lived in the village all her life. they found her, as a child, no words, no memories. a nice old lady adopted her, because she is cute and the old lady was alone and blind. she taught her how to make mushroom soup and how to sew, and to know the vegetables in the garden by touch not sight “they will trick you with their pretty skins and their fluffy leaves! be warned ember. things are not as they seem, but often, how they feel. when you touch them.”
she lit the fires every night in the little house with her little fires. she didn’t have to hide her horns here. it was nice. town was different. her eyes burned low and blue. humans were different. she remembered her old lady’s firelight winter tale:
~before the advent of man, nature existed in absolute perfection. harmony. a balance so deep the world shimmered and vibrated softly with the heartbeat of #infinity herself. only a world so immaculate, ineffable, undisturbed, allows the natural dance of #shethelord to be seen, and felt. like a shining afternoon sea, yellow-blue, without a single wave of ripple reveals the pearl temples of the naiads, such is the rarity. (with a twig, she drew a perfect circle in the ashes)
this is a great task. to live as human beings, resonant and balanced with nature. (impossible!) it is very impossible, and yet it can be done! haha~
such are we the precious true seeds of the universe. we are each and uniquely capable of the impossible. all the impossibles! witness: you are alive aren’t you? every moment is a miracle, for life is the ultrarare element of reality. life to non life in the universe is a fraction rounded to zero. (she drew another circle, then another, concentric)
and yet! also~ (she pointed up, and gazed at the stars with her bright blind eyes) each of those is a being, listening right now, ember. watching. our lives are a work of art. so do not forget with every step, you carry us all with you, as i carry them with me. i know they are human and horrible yes, but! we are all beings… (her eyes cleared for a moment, turning a warm green, and she looked right through the ink into sky eyes both surprised and beautiful, then she looked back at ember, her eyes clouded again orange/grey in the firelight.)
do not forget your precious nature, ember. no matter where you go or what you do or who you punch out or why! always are you the most precious magnificent being to exist. and god and all her endless creation loves you dearly. (she looked up and spoke to the stars, and pointed to the circles’ shared center) especially you.