There is a tale I’ve heard told about an ancient king. Glendower, the Raven King. He sleeps in the forest somewhere, or so I’ve heard. Waiting for the waker—waiting to join us, the living, once again. Somewhere, Glendower sleeps, dreaming of the day he will be woken. Eager to walk through his lands once again.
Eager to grant the waker a wish.
That’s the tale I’ve heard told.
The tale of The Raven King.
A magical king. A wish-granter. A sleeper whose quiet breaths are full of life.
I’ve heard the tale of that king. Heard it several times, actually.
There’s more to the story than what there appears.
You see, I believe that something isn’t adding up.
There are… things… that can’t be explained by that tale.
Things that we, the listeners, have screwed up.
Things that we got wrong. Continue reading “King of Crows”
“Well… since you’ve come this far, I’ll let you inside—but don’t touch anything.”
“Uh, okay,” I replied.
“Not ‘okay’. You say ‘yes’ like you mean it.”
Huffing, the guy turned and walked back into the cottage. Not even bothering to make sure I was following.
“Shut the door on your way in,” he called over his shoulder, moving down a flight of steps.
I could feel it.
My nerves were bubbling. Oozing. All my veins were dancing, jittering against my bones.
All my life I’d waited for this. Looked for it. Sought after it.
I was finally here.
The Ocean Library. Continue reading “Between the Tides”
It wasn’t safe.
It had never been safe.
As I stare at the climbing trees and listen to the birds toss their remarks back and forth, I realize that.
It’s never been safe here.
And, honestly, I think I knew that all along. Because, really:
This is a jungle, after all.
A burning jungle. Continue reading “Burning Jungle”
Blitzing moon that glares down at the forest, streaking the undergrowth with tendrils of lunar light. Small specks are lit up here and there, disturbing the tranquil dark. Upturning the critters in the wake of the night’s gaze. Always questioning, always wondering.
In the night, there are things that are seen that can’t be unseen. And there are things that are unseen that can be known, and yet, remain unseen. The forest at night is a magical place, a new realm. Home to the darkest of beings, the most silent, the most watchful. Night in the forest is a place, not a time. It is an essence, a creature unto itself.
And there, in the dark.
Sitting between the sparks of moonlight.
Hiding under the gaze of stars.
That’s where you’ll find me. Continue reading “Beyond the Moonlight”
“It can’t snow forever.”
That’s where you’re wrong. Continue reading “Snowfall”
There was an island.
Lonely, isolated. Off to the east, right before the world dropped, there was an island. A waypoint.
Last Hope, they called it.
A place where one could turn back, turn away from the edge of the world.
If you let yourself survive it. Continue reading “Last Hope or the Edge of the World”
At the time, I was nowhere near him.
When I heard the voice roll off the mountain, I thought I was hearing things. Whisperings of the wind. Coyotes cackling at me, trying to play tricks on my mind. Or, perhaps it was a bear roaring. His voice blasting so far and wide that it distorted. That it sounded like a person shouting.
It was no wind, no bear, no coyote. It was not a trick, and it was not in my mind.
Because he spoke again.
Yelled once more.
And I knew:
He was calling to me.
The wilderness itself.
It calls to me.
What choice did I have but to run?
Continue reading “Calling”
It wasn’t easy to get here.
The path is narrow, full of holes. Every step was marred—echoed, really—by the steps of the jungle beasts. By the creatures of this magical forest. I could hear their cries at night, and feel their eyes watching in the day. At some point, the trees gave up on me, gave in. Began reaching for me, choking up on the path ahead. Trying to prevent me from going forward.
Yes, it wasn’t easy getting here.
Not in the slightest.
When the sleeper wakes…
It will be worth it.
Continue reading “Sleeping Wishes”
“How can you be sure that that’s the right path?”
When she asks, her eyes are focused far off. Lingering in the dark. Clinging to the blank spots in space that neither of us can see into. That neither of us—her, with her newfound knowledge, and me, with my vast experiences—can see into.
We are blind out there in those places.
Tucked between the stars.
The darkness that those places are purveying.
But not winning.
Not if you don’t want it to.
That’s what I can see in her eyes as she looks. Not curiosity. Not wonder.
I shake my head at her. Already, she has made a critical error.
You don’t look between the stars for knowledge.
You look there for guidance. Continue reading “The Stellar Path”
Through the evergreens, across the frozen lakes, beyond the towering glaciers. I moved, endlessly onward. Pursuing only that wisp. That dream. An inkling that tickled at the back of my mind. Rode the tail of the Northern Lights. Disappeared in the dawn, leaving a faint memory.
Wandered, not aimlessly. Not at all.
But with a goal:
I will find it.
I will find you. Continue reading “Wandering Star”