FallenDreamer00
It was the school holidays, and I had followed my family to spend a few quiet days at my grandmother's house. What harm could there be in wandering through the forest behind it? It was, after all, just a well-known woodland-famous for its countless folktales and whispered myths. The river there ran clear as glass, its song a perfect escape from the weight of school and the noise of the outside world.
And then... there he was.
Standing utterly still in a white traditional garment, he seemed carved from the very essence of a dream-majestic, mythical, with eyes that reached deep into my soul.
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"Kuang Mas! Kuang Mas!"
The name seemed to spark through the air like flint to stone. The Golden Pheasant. A legend - a creature of luck and myth. They said its feathers brought fortune, that to catch it was to invite blessings into your life.
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"Do not touch them," his voice whispered, like feathers brushing my ear-tender, yet firm as stone.
"What are those?" I asked.
"They are what your kind calls mambang hutan-forest sprites. If a human touches them, even unintentionally, it will drain their life force."
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He took my hand - the one he had never once let go since we began - and brought it to his chest.
"I will return. Tomorrow. At the riverbank," I said.
"You know what to do... to find me." His eyes held mine with a quiet strength. Then, finally, he let go.