Bryn the black was called a shade. By the ancient mother of trees he had known as a sapling.
You will address me properly madam . I am a bright wraith. The last of my kind born of the Bright and the Wraith. As surely as Sylph were born in recent times of Elves and Nymph.
I have long slumbered since Vesiron divided our world into light dark and shadow. Now tell me child of the forest.. what has become of the world of fire; And darkness we inhabit, and who is the author of the melody that wakes me ?
My name is Widow. Said the elder tree. It has been long past I last saw you Bright Wraith. I did know your kind long ago. Such a long time past your kind has never been seen here,save the younglings who attach themselves to any upcoming Sylph who's proven himself worthy.
This song, it's stirred you from deepest sleep. The whole forest hears it and so do you. But why do you answer it's call?
Bryn the black thought about the child's question. It reminds me of who I am or who I was . He answered.
The widow cried a tear of dew upon him. It has indeed been a long time Bryn. He who was named the black mountain. If you are back among us . I can only hope for my saplings sake you are here as a friend.
We shall see who has awoken me seed. But I can give you my word.. you and your kind will not be harmed.
The author is at the waters edge.. my ancient friend, said the widow. But hurry. The wolves are closing in. They are kin to him. And will protect him with their lives.
Bryn nodded and left in a trail of black mist, the widow shed another tear; and watched As a small acorn opened below . She had just birthed another son .
YOU ARE READING
Shadow Landers
FantasyWhere light and dark meet . Shadows play A.story of the sylph born of elves and nymphs. Created to be guardians of magic, myth, and mankind survive in the shadow world we know as our dimension
