Spoiler
I couldn't take it anymore. My parents died when I was just a little girl, and so I was raised by my older sister and brother. They tried their best, I get that, but when your only family members are at each other’s throats about everything it makes it hard to be happy sometimes; I think that’s why they always let me have whatever creature I wanted, because they tried to make it up to me. It sort of worked, I guess, seeing as how my closest – and maybe only – friend in the world is my Arkenian Kitsune, Nova.
Of course it didn't help that neither of them believed that I could see the spirits of the dead, and so when sometimes I would wake in the night screaming in fear of a particularly dark spirit, they would only assure me it was a nightmare. I tried and tried to convince them that what I was seeing was real, but they refused to believe me even after years.
It got to a point where I had to leave, and I did so in the middle of the night without telling either of my siblings, Nova at my side. Being mid-October, it was starting to get pretty cold at night, so I packed my hiking pack full of warm clothes, things to make a fire with, and other essentials, leaving most of my belongings behind and setting out deeper into the Silva Forest. Honestly, I wasn't expecting to get very far before either my siblings or some other creature found me, so the fact that Nova and I survived as long as we did is shocking to even me.
The deeper we went into the forest, the darker it got even during the short days, and at times I let Nova guide me, following his pale shape against the dark forest floor. But after a few days of hiking, we stumbled upon an abandoned house which looked to be at least a hundred years old, maybe even more. Some of the windows were broken and there were cracks in the bricks, missing planks in the porch, but it was just fine for us. We cleaned up the top floor and even found a room with a small wood-burning stove which proved valuable on the increasingly colder nights.
Sometimes wandering spirits passed through the house, some of them stopping to talk to me. I was usually able to send them on their way to the afterlife, and I think somehow news of my presence spread because in the next few days the visits seemed to get more and more frequent, yet surprisingly I never encountered any evil spirits.
Until that fateful night in late October, that is…
I was up late, and though all I wanted was to fall asleep, my mind was on overdrive. The hours passed, and I think it was around 2 am when things started to get weird. My nerves were already strained because Nova was out hunting, but he should have come back by now. My worry increased with each passing minute – I could not bear to lose my only friend.
“Where are you, buddy? Just come home, come home,” I muttered over and over again as I fidgeted with my blanket. Unable to take it, I opened the shutter on the window over my bed and rested my forehead on the icy pane, looking out for his pale coat slinking across the ground in front of the house.
But I wouldn't have been able to see him anyway, because a thick fog had sunk over the ground, and had I gone out and stood in front of the house I would probably be up to my waist in it. But it wasn't like most fog; it wasn't still, as it should be on a calm night like this, but it seemed to be rolling, swirling around the house and through the trees. And then I noticed shapes moving in it.
Spectral wolves, I thought with equal parts awe and fear, shivering at their haunting howls echoing through the forest. Glittering eyes moved in and out of the trees, only passing by, except for one green pair. One of the wolves stopped at the edge of the trees and looked up, right at me, his majestic silver head materializing out of the darkness.
I was frozen in fear; I had never seen the wolves before and had no idea what to expect, all kinds of questions running through my mind. Would they kill Nova if they found him? Would they kill me if I was out there? Wait, does that even matter – will they come in the house and attack me? I remembered leaving the front door open for Nova and desperately hoped the wolf would just move on; in my fear, I didn't feel the presence of a new spirit in the house.
I stared at the wolf, and he stared at me, until he opened his mouth and howled at me; a long, haunting and strangely beautiful sound. I shivered, and as the howl trailed off, he faded into the fog until once again only his eyes were distinguishable. That’s when I noticed how much colder it had gotten in the room.
Despite the fire burning in the wood stove, frost had begun to form on the edges of the windows, my fingers had gone totally numb and my breath was forming dense white clouds. Then I felt it, felt him; slowly I turned around, the bed-springs groaning at the movement.
Standing in front of the open doorway, just inside the room was a dense black form, as if a shadow had come to life and thickened; for he seemed almost to be made of thick black cloud. He was the shape of a man; if a man grew to be seven feet tall that is, and though there were no distinguishable features about him, I could feel his anger fill the icy room.
He lifted his hand and pointed towards me; I wanted to scream but suddenly I couldn't make any noise at all as his voice filled my head. “This house is cursed,” his voice hissed at me. I tried to breathe but couldn't get any air, and I knew he was suffocating me. “You cannot be here. This house is mine,” he snarled, and the words echoed in my head as my lungs burned; I grabbed at my throat, desperate for air but getting nothing. As my vision narrowed, he seemed to fill the room, until everything was black like him and all there was were the words you cannot be here, you cannot be here echoing around me.
Looking back on that night, I think maybe the wolf hadn't wanted to harm me, but to save me; that his howl was a kind of warning…if only I had known to listen. When I opened my eyes, I thought perhaps it was all just a dream. Never had I hoped for anything more in my life, but when I looked down at my pale, translucent hands, my worst fears were made real.
My name is Grace Whitedeer, and that night I joined the spirits of the dead.
Of course it didn't help that neither of them believed that I could see the spirits of the dead, and so when sometimes I would wake in the night screaming in fear of a particularly dark spirit, they would only assure me it was a nightmare. I tried and tried to convince them that what I was seeing was real, but they refused to believe me even after years.
It got to a point where I had to leave, and I did so in the middle of the night without telling either of my siblings, Nova at my side. Being mid-October, it was starting to get pretty cold at night, so I packed my hiking pack full of warm clothes, things to make a fire with, and other essentials, leaving most of my belongings behind and setting out deeper into the Silva Forest. Honestly, I wasn't expecting to get very far before either my siblings or some other creature found me, so the fact that Nova and I survived as long as we did is shocking to even me.
The deeper we went into the forest, the darker it got even during the short days, and at times I let Nova guide me, following his pale shape against the dark forest floor. But after a few days of hiking, we stumbled upon an abandoned house which looked to be at least a hundred years old, maybe even more. Some of the windows were broken and there were cracks in the bricks, missing planks in the porch, but it was just fine for us. We cleaned up the top floor and even found a room with a small wood-burning stove which proved valuable on the increasingly colder nights.
Sometimes wandering spirits passed through the house, some of them stopping to talk to me. I was usually able to send them on their way to the afterlife, and I think somehow news of my presence spread because in the next few days the visits seemed to get more and more frequent, yet surprisingly I never encountered any evil spirits.
Until that fateful night in late October, that is…
I was up late, and though all I wanted was to fall asleep, my mind was on overdrive. The hours passed, and I think it was around 2 am when things started to get weird. My nerves were already strained because Nova was out hunting, but he should have come back by now. My worry increased with each passing minute – I could not bear to lose my only friend.
“Where are you, buddy? Just come home, come home,” I muttered over and over again as I fidgeted with my blanket. Unable to take it, I opened the shutter on the window over my bed and rested my forehead on the icy pane, looking out for his pale coat slinking across the ground in front of the house.
But I wouldn't have been able to see him anyway, because a thick fog had sunk over the ground, and had I gone out and stood in front of the house I would probably be up to my waist in it. But it wasn't like most fog; it wasn't still, as it should be on a calm night like this, but it seemed to be rolling, swirling around the house and through the trees. And then I noticed shapes moving in it.
Spectral wolves, I thought with equal parts awe and fear, shivering at their haunting howls echoing through the forest. Glittering eyes moved in and out of the trees, only passing by, except for one green pair. One of the wolves stopped at the edge of the trees and looked up, right at me, his majestic silver head materializing out of the darkness.
I was frozen in fear; I had never seen the wolves before and had no idea what to expect, all kinds of questions running through my mind. Would they kill Nova if they found him? Would they kill me if I was out there? Wait, does that even matter – will they come in the house and attack me? I remembered leaving the front door open for Nova and desperately hoped the wolf would just move on; in my fear, I didn't feel the presence of a new spirit in the house.
I stared at the wolf, and he stared at me, until he opened his mouth and howled at me; a long, haunting and strangely beautiful sound. I shivered, and as the howl trailed off, he faded into the fog until once again only his eyes were distinguishable. That’s when I noticed how much colder it had gotten in the room.
Despite the fire burning in the wood stove, frost had begun to form on the edges of the windows, my fingers had gone totally numb and my breath was forming dense white clouds. Then I felt it, felt him; slowly I turned around, the bed-springs groaning at the movement.
Standing in front of the open doorway, just inside the room was a dense black form, as if a shadow had come to life and thickened; for he seemed almost to be made of thick black cloud. He was the shape of a man; if a man grew to be seven feet tall that is, and though there were no distinguishable features about him, I could feel his anger fill the icy room.
He lifted his hand and pointed towards me; I wanted to scream but suddenly I couldn't make any noise at all as his voice filled my head. “This house is cursed,” his voice hissed at me. I tried to breathe but couldn't get any air, and I knew he was suffocating me. “You cannot be here. This house is mine,” he snarled, and the words echoed in my head as my lungs burned; I grabbed at my throat, desperate for air but getting nothing. As my vision narrowed, he seemed to fill the room, until everything was black like him and all there was were the words you cannot be here, you cannot be here echoing around me.
Looking back on that night, I think maybe the wolf hadn't wanted to harm me, but to save me; that his howl was a kind of warning…if only I had known to listen. When I opened my eyes, I thought perhaps it was all just a dream. Never had I hoped for anything more in my life, but when I looked down at my pale, translucent hands, my worst fears were made real.
My name is Grace Whitedeer, and that night I joined the spirits of the dead.
