Where was it coming from? The witch quickly strolled out of her warm cabin, past her colorful glowing garden, and towards the direction of the noise. Her eyes darted to the sky, the setting sun giving the atmosphere a final burst of colors before the days end. Rana would have to move quickly if she wanted to get back before the moonlight creatures started prowling their turn.
Just fifteen minutes ago, the witch heard an unfamiliar noise coming from the jungle around her. She ignored it at first, thinking that it was just some daylings having a final game before bed. But the sound wouldn’t stop, so, thinking it could be something more, she finished brewing her elixir, set it on the kitchen counter as she passed through the rooms and walked out of her warm home.
It sounded like a baby crying. The witch let out a soft chuckle, thinking herself a fool for believing such a thought for even a second. But the shrill cry ran on. Maybe its an injured animal? she thought to herself, thinking of all the possibilities. She imagined nursing it back to health and possibly have it stay awhile, for the cabin was getting very lonely. Sure she had the fireflies to keep her company, but it wasn’t the same as having a thing of flesh and blood to keep company, possibly even sleep at the foot of the bed! Giddy at the thought, she followed the direction the sound was coming from.
She burst through the first layer of the jungle, pushing away the low-hanging branches and vines, startling all manor of daylight creature as she progressed her way through the thick brush. Her destination was bound to be close if she was in earshot while inside her cabin. Ah ha! She found a rather skinny tree in comparison to the rest of the forest, one might call it a ninety-nine man thick trunk, and the cry was coming from one of the highest branches the tree had to offer. The witch sighed and cast an earthly spell in her mind.
The earth beneath her cracked, the sharp lines in the dirt forming a jagged circle around her. The witch gave one final word to the spell and the soil gave, lifting her up with a jolt before she took control of it. She willed it up, allowing it to escalate to and maintain a considerable speed. The earth she was standing on formed an upside-down cone, the lush green grass holding the witch on top, and the mud below it shrinking to a point that hung low, with roots and small dry pieces of dirt falling every step of the way.
Rana looked at the sun, hardly even visible, and started to wonder whether this ordeal would be worth the trouble she might face. The screaming above her was very loud, unrealistically so for the common dayling. Something was wrong. She sped up, branches and leaves on the tree just a blur now, and glanced to the forest floor. No fireflies yet, that was a good sign. She looked back up before dwelling on her escalated height for too long, pleased to see that she was nearing the source of the cry. She flew through the dark clouds of nightfall, past a few more branches and leaves before willing the earthen platform to a halt. She slowly hovered it to a near branch, the leaves and a multitude of the trees other wooden arms blocking the view of her quarry. She stepped a foot on a thicker branch, testing its sturdiness before stepping her other foot on. The witch peered into the dark branches, which seemed like a whole other forest in itself. The crying seemed to be less than a few yards away, but the night air made it hard to see. She summoned a tiny flame that would freely float around her, its trail leaving dust and ash that would dissipate at the will of the easy wind. The witch pushed through the leaves, the flame keeping its distance from anything and everything as it floated around the front of her neck, lighting her way with its soft orange glow.
The crying was close now, and had a dying will to it. She pushed away one last branch and let out a squealing gasp. She blinked, rubbed her eyes, had the flame burn her to see if she was dreaming, but no, it was right there. It was a human. A baby one, with smooth black skin and white, ancient looking tattoos, though she had seen the patterns before, everything with intelligence knew what they were. One of the legendary dyad from thousands of years ago had tattoos of the sort, the white markings on night colored skin. The other hero was said to have pure white skin, and bore tattoos from imprisonment in his youth. They were said to represent night and day, the birth of the daylight and moonlight creatures, the only reason there was any life on the planet. But their story is one of a forgotten time, passed down from the stars generation after generation.
Ranas thoughts were interrupted by something nibbling at her shoes, its panting breath brushing against her ankles. She looked down to see a weird white feline creature and realized the poor thing was protecting the human, putting itself in harms way. But the witch didn’t have time for any of this, so she scooped up the strange little creature and put it in her pocket before picking up the baby, carrying it in an unexperienced awkwardness. Though, to her satisfaction it had stopped crying. She hurried back to the platform and jumped on it without hesitation before sending it down with just enough speed so that her feet stayed perched on it. The early moonlight creatures were nothing to worry about, it was the ones that followed those that concerned her. They were halfway down when the fireflies became visible, and by the time they got to the ground, moonlings had taken notice of the floating rock, and were waiting impatiently at the bottom.
The witch hovered just out of reach, casting a spell silently in her mind. Her eyes were forced wide open, a bright white light emitting from them, before she suddenly bursted with sharp pang and striking flash, blinding every moonling in the area. She let the rock hit the earth and started running home, brushing past the branches and through the leaves, protecting the baby from any harm. She gave no attention to the creatures chasing her, for she knew once she got to her land that they would stop immediately. She dashed through the final stretch and burst out to her open area, stopping to let herself breathe. The kitten in her pocket had poked its head out and was letting out a few aggressive yaps.
She held the baby out to look at and smiled. It was beautiful, with smooth skin just like the stories told. And that baby smell! Its eyes were a deep green, holding a curious look, though still puffy from the crying. The creature in her pocket had sensed its friends relaxation and let itself have a big yawn. The witches face hurt from the smiling, it wasn’t used to the mouth forming as it was. She clutched the baby to her chest and walked past the vine covered fence, up the front steps and into her warm home.
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Sidereal Odyssey, Book 1: Zavijah
AdventureIn a world thousands of years after humans, where new biomes have been introduced, in turn creating all sorts of unheard of monsters, this fairytale follows the story of a young boy, his feline like friend, and the companions they meet in their soul...
