Dark Magic

As the fog rises up around me the sounds of the stream fade away, even though it still remains flowing just behind me. I notice the fog rolling down the hills before me; It rushes through the trees. The way the pale glow of Luna’s full glare filters through the fog it appears to be swirling feverishly. The way the beautiful yet cold glare mixes with the fog it appears to be streaking out like tendrils intent on snaring me.

As the strange fog follows the intense winds and rain around me, it seems as if I’m rooted where I stand; helpless to do anything but accept being engulfed by this beautiful, pale blue, living fog.

At the fogs first embrace I know longer feel the rain falling on me the same way; The trees no longer reach out and touch the summer’s night sky. It feels as if the animals that once hid in the forest from the rain are no longer even there. Not just out of sight, but out of mind. I no longer feel a connection to the wilderness. This lack of connection can only mean one thing: Dark Magic.

This fog is no natural fog. It doesn’t have even a modicum of noblis oblige that speaks the law of the forest: only the strong survive. No, this fog exists to disturb the natural order of things. To dethrone the kings and queens of fairies in the noble court of Oberon, I think with a chuckle.

I’ve been standing here for too long I realize. This fog has done its job so far. I have forgotten my song. I have forgotten the scent. I have forgotten the nights agenda.

I once again lift my head up to regain the scent; this time with my eyes open, not quite trusting the fog. I have lost a connection to everything else in the forest this night, but not the scent. No, the scent couldn’t hide from good ole Whren. Fog and dark magic aside. I am the hunter in the wilderness, the scent will lead me to what is mine.

If the fog and its dark magic wants to stop me. Then I will find the source of the fog…and that to, shall be mine.