Wordforge 8-15-14

SONG: "The Mighty Rio Grande" by This Will Destroy You

THEME: Quiet Magic






Lungs burning and heart pounding he runs through the woods, the slim silhouettes of trees standing out as darker patches in the half-light of an obfuscated moon, but he knows those trees and the ground beneath his feet, each blade of grass, each leaf. Every branch that scores his bare chest and arms is a gift, a blessing of the forest.

A hill approaches and he slows, cresting it carefully, slowing further and moving into a crouch as he nears the top and peeks out, face low to the rich, soft carpet of the earth and grass, and his heart flutters at what he sees atop the hill.

It's bald, clear of trees and grass, and flat as if the top had been sheared away to reveal the ancient stone bones of the hill, and sitting there in a tight circle around a crackling fire are three figures swaddled in heavy furs, their faces hidden behind the shadows of deep hoods. They sway with the breeze that sends the smoke from the fire to the sky in widening spirals, humming a strange melody.

The young man bites his lip, breath catching in his throat as the three stand and raise their arms over their heads, furs falling back to reveal slim, smooth, sun-browned limbs, hands outstretched and reaching for the sky as the clouds roll back and the moon smiles down, a sharp white crescent among a tapestry of jewels. The hum becomes a wordless song playing in the moonlight and the three begin moving around the fire, swaying and spinning, fur-cloaks dropping to reveal three maidens, their night-black hair swirling around them, the fire rising and sending their shadows mad across the hilltop as they dance and sing.

The clouds stop for a time and the maidens dance, their song growing, spreading out and wrapping around the heart of the young man who hides in the shadows, and in that moment it feels as if even the world stops its spinning and holds its breath, and the moon shines down to watch, and every tree in the forest listens.