They say midnight is the witching hour. The time when spooks are at their strongest, when the demons and ghosts come out to play. Those who would say this are incorrect. It is always darkest before the dawn. When all the daylight creatures are in the deepest phases of sleep, when the insects are silent and the dew has just begun to settle, when the moon as reached its zenith...
That is the witching hour. Who would wander into a forest dubbed forbidden at such a time? Those that ventured carelessly in such endeavors sometimes found themselves led astray by the dim lights of the deepwoods and were forever lost, and sometimes they found worse things than wisps. Sometimes out there in the dark, things might speak to you. You may see things walking that should crawl, and things flying that should walk. You may stumble upon a deep, rocky hole in the ground just large enough for a man to crawl through on his hands and knees, and for some strange reason you may want to go into it.
Men fancied themselves at the top of the world, and from a certain standpoint they were. But there are two worlds to every life, and two lives to every world. Reality and dream, reason and madness. Man may rule his sanity, but none may claim sovereignty over that which by its essence embodies a lack of control, though they may try. The forest was not sane. But, concepts are just that. They mean nothing by themselves. What matters is reality and the ways in which the human mind can or cannot process it. The reality is that five days ago a little girl was swallowed up by the forest. The reality was that her parents were pulling their hair out with grief, and that the town council was willing to reward the ones that found the child. The reality was that she would never be found. Still, someone had to go looking. Someone brave, someone of solid conviction and stout spirit. Surely no less could make it out of that place alive.
That is the witching hour. Who would wander into a forest dubbed forbidden at such a time? Those that ventured carelessly in such endeavors sometimes found themselves led astray by the dim lights of the deepwoods and were forever lost, and sometimes they found worse things than wisps. Sometimes out there in the dark, things might speak to you. You may see things walking that should crawl, and things flying that should walk. You may stumble upon a deep, rocky hole in the ground just large enough for a man to crawl through on his hands and knees, and for some strange reason you may want to go into it.
Men fancied themselves at the top of the world, and from a certain standpoint they were. But there are two worlds to every life, and two lives to every world. Reality and dream, reason and madness. Man may rule his sanity, but none may claim sovereignty over that which by its essence embodies a lack of control, though they may try. The forest was not sane. But, concepts are just that. They mean nothing by themselves. What matters is reality and the ways in which the human mind can or cannot process it. The reality is that five days ago a little girl was swallowed up by the forest. The reality was that her parents were pulling their hair out with grief, and that the town council was willing to reward the ones that found the child. The reality was that she would never be found. Still, someone had to go looking. Someone brave, someone of solid conviction and stout spirit. Surely no less could make it out of that place alive.