A LONELY WORLD OF WONDER: An Anthology ✓

Whispers of the Spirit

Night had fallen across the valley, paving way for the moon herself to shine her glory across the earth. An abundance of stars filled the sky like pale corn grounded into freshly turned pieces. It was the promise of life in the darkness, a sense of warmth springing from the cold. A careful observer would say it was an endless vastness entitled to bring humbleness and an eternal space to bring gratitude for the coziness of home.

But even though this calming and subtle silence that has long since brought nothing but endless peace and tranquility to my subconsciousness, Maka Inca herself couldn't hold back the mystic world that I've struggled to resist for so long.

It was a dark world out there, beyond the circle of the world that I've known of. Few spirits have ventured off beyond the boundary; some in which have been banished there on purpose, and only a wingful return unscathed. Those who do only tell short stories or speak of nothing at all, before perishing alongside their watchers in mere weeks.

Such sad and miserable creatures have only known what lay outside this world. Spiritless and desolate forestry remained untouched and undiscovered for years, waiting for something magical to pass through.

For years, I feared that the unlucky soul might be my own.

Surely I found it as dark and mysterious as any spirit in Bambadi would. We just knew so little about what laid beyond there, hidden in a void of nothingness. This mysterious and magical place drowning in the shadows of a dying star had yet to show its face, and all we could do was wait. Truth be told, everything in this universe had to have a reason for its existence. Nothing's ever 'truly' nothing unless it had proof that it is, we're just afraid because we've known nothing for far too long.

But even the foggy darkness that has watched and listened beyond our boundaries for generations could never hide its voice forever. And once it sought a weakness amongst ourselves, it never hesitates to take it.

Argentavis...

The first time I had heard such a coarse whisper I only denounced it as a mutter from my own beak. Nothing out there could've called for me in desolation -unless it was the spirits themselves, crowding around me as they too slept nearby. Then again, I do recall voices of the night that have ushered my name in worry and fear, some in which have been spirits themselves, and some that come from the living world that thrives beneath Bambadi.

The Natives would raise their proud and lush voices, cascading around an open fire to signal my very name, to pray to the heavens above in my honor to strength, guidance, wisdom, and truth. My heart would soar and burst like a birthing sun alongside their wishes, an eruption unlike no other that would split my energy into thousands of fragmented sparkles into the wind, filling their souls of my magic and mystery.

I gifted them freedom and wisdom, honor and love. I urged their presence to care for Maka Inca, a friend to whom I've cared most dear about. In a way, I was their salvation and hope, and while none may see that I exist in the real world, all they needed to do was believe that I was there.

To believe that I still cared and that I would be watching over them all until the end of time.

It's a spectacle. An honor. But it's only happened a few times as I lived between reality and spirit, and I destined to seek another beckoning from the world I once belonged to.

If that is the case, then I must wait for it. I must hold in my energy until then.

For now, the voice that has called for me wasn't that of the real world, it was a nightmarish dream if I were to guess. I simply reacted with a grimaced exhale between solemn breaths, squeezing my eyes tighter together to avoid such mockery to my name.