AUTHOR: EMILIÉ ROSE
Secluded as it is at the edge of a haggard clifface, far from the reach of imposing souls, a little cottage fit to support the presence of just one resident sits quiet and distant. Its easy gaze overlooks the endless dark sea before it, enjoying the roaring of boastful waves crashing against jagged boulders jutting from the water down below.
Just beside the cottage towers a large cherry-bonsai tree well into its mid-spring bloom, soft cotton pink petals flutter in the gentle breeze down to the grassy floor, secreting scents typical to that of the season. On one of the trees’ branches hangs two ropes tied to a well-used and weathered tire, which sways rhythmically to the sound of chirping cicadas in the cottage’s bushes. Tree and cottage combined, the scene provides for serenity and peace; evil has no place here.
Unconventional windows made of sea glass melted together cast a myriad of rays like a rainbow reflected. A single candle flickers momentarily in one of the windows before dying out, darkening the dwelling as the moon’s ivory glare becomes obscured by a large cluster of fog, which looms ever closer. From the entryway of the cottage limps out an elderly woman with flowing, silver hair, wearing nothing but a nightgown. Slowly, she makes her way out of the cottage’s perimeters towards the cliff edge, smiling and huffing all the while.
“Come, little Flame, your journey here has come to an end. It is time to choose a new path.” Speaks a voice from the fog, which now hovers just after the edge, untouching. Standing atop the collection of clouds is a tall woman covered in a brilliant white gown that disappears before its hem can fall upon the mist. Chestnut hair cascades down her back and continues still to where her knees would be. Her features are akin to that of any and every woman, with a typical nose, typical set of lips, eyebrows, etc. Her eyes however, are kaleidoscopes that change colours like those of the sea glass windows.
“I felt You coming, is it time already?” The old woman questions, squinting as she does.
“Indeed. A new life awaits you on the other side. You must decide your fate with me before you take the leap. Are you ready?” The presences’ face makes no movement as she speaks, her voice an echo which travels comfortingly through the old woman. She puts out a thin hand; her long, nimble fingers curving invitingly.
The old lady turns back to the cottage, her heart twisting now as she knows she might never see the establishment again. “Fear not, little Flame. This is your safe haven, the physical form of your soul. We will guard it for you while We await your return, until then, you must keep it close to you in spirit.”
Understandably apprehensive, the old woman sighs before she takes hold of the offered assistance and steps onto the clouds, preparing to be rebirthed once more.