Let’s Rewrite History
Swan stepped into the clearing between the birch trees and blackberry bushes. The hair on her toes stood up as the cold breath of the forest blew over them. A chill ran up from the top of her feet, along the knobs of her spine, and whispered into her ear, “Run!”
She didn’t obey. Instead she creeped toward the breeze, leaves spiraling in a tornado a few feet away from her. Crisp brown crumbling leaves broke apart, crushed by the movement. Golden fresh green leaves kept up with the invisible dancing partner, leaping and looping through the air. The closer she was to the tiny cyclone born out of the forest floor, specks of minerals in the dirt sparkled in the sunlight like glitter on the shoulders of a party girl having a good time. Red dirt clouded the show making the twister less visible.
When she got close enough, Swan snaked her hand out to grab ahold of the whipping debris. Her energy flexed in the energetic force in deep within Falldeer Forest. As her fingertips touched the first leaf, the whole structure changed. Leaves began to stick to one another, dirt imploded into stone. The solitary funnel took on dozens of miniature funnels, each working like bees to get into the correct position.
Swan stumbled away, afraid now that there was much more than a dirty twister in her path. She was right about that part.
She hid behind a stick skinny white birch while the mechanics continued. Soon she saw a pavilion taking shape, tall and constructed of silver flecked stone. Five pillars all round surrounded a cunicular roof made from leaves and moss. Around the base of the pavilion, three steps leading inside. As the work slowed down, and it seemed it was nearly finished, Swan saw a single row of curved stone benches circling a fire pit in the middle of the pavilion. The pavilion could seat about 25 people, she figured.
Standing in awe, she was losing her mind or at least hallucinating. Looking at her hands, she saw purple stains and thought the berries, they weren’t blackberries after all, I’ve just poisoned myself. That had to be what happened.
Just to make sure, she stepped over to where this great stone structure now stood in the middle of Falldeer Forest. Her fingertips made the first connection with the coarse icy stone pillar, still and tall. She let her palm hold her steady against the pillar as she made her first step up the three stairs leading into the pavilion. Her feet carried her over to the hole in the center, and then to the concave benches where her body laid and she closed her eyes. It was a dream, it had to be. If she had eating poisoned berries, she would just die here. She would not be looking at herself and considering anything. She could never return to her house now that she’d lost her mind. No, her only option was that this was a dream, and what better way to get out of a dream than to go asleep the while dreaming.
Her eyes opened to blackness. Her skin was sticky in dew but she wasn’t cold. She was almost sweaty from the heat behind her. “Where am I?” Afraid to find out, scared to move in case she wasn’t alone, she was being watched—she could feel eyes on her.
Swan moved slow as a snail on her stomach as saw the floor of the pavilion, “I’m not dreaming, so I must be out my mind.” In the center of the floor where the hole was now sat a pile of wood with red flames licking its cuts, barking and snapping at one another. Swan sat up like a light. “Someone else has to be here to light this fire,” hoping this would drive out the source.
She stole a peak around the pavilion but all she saw was the lampblack night sky, save for a full moon.