“I need you to do something with me. I need you to trust me and do whatever I tell you to do.”
You’re about to make a joke to deny the sudden, inexplicable feeling of nervous anticipation that flutters through your body when something causes you to hesitate. There’s something in his eyes that you’ve never seen before; a lonely, desperate look that begs for your acceptance and support. You find yourself slowly nodding in assent. He reaches into his pocket to produce a small, round piece of grey-green chalk, which he holds out to you. His face is serious as his eyes regard you evenly.
“Breathe on this.”
You blink in confusion and start to refuse, but again the desperate look in his eyes steals your resolve. His voice is quiet, but pleading.
“Please,” he says, “I need you to come with me. I want you to see.”
Still not understanding what he means, you incline your head forward and breathe lightly on the chalk. His eyes meet yours in silent gratitude. He brings the chalk to his mouth and breathes lightly on it; once, and turns around. He holds the chalk out in front of him as if he is going to draw something in mid air. His hand moves, and you can hear the dull scrape of the chalk as if it were moving across a solid surface. To your utter amazement, you see the grey-green line the chalk makes hanging in midair.
Your mind struggles to tell you that it’s a simple illusion; that such things are not possible.
He continues to move the chalk in a large circle directly in front of him, and you can see from the marks that it is roughly man-sized. When he is finished, he takes a step back from his drawing and holds his hand out to you. His eyes are grave, and the flutter of nervous anticipation again washes over you.
“Take my hand,” He instructs quietly.
You reach out and grasp his hand in yours. There is a rush of sudden wind that seems to come from nowhere and the circle in front of you immediately begins to pulsate with a silvery light. The space inside the circle begins to shimmer and glisten like a mirrored pool of mercury.
Again, your mind struggles to tell you that such things are not possible.
You do not know where the warm wind is coming from, but it whips over you, tousling your hair and causing you to squint into the radiant silver light emanating from the circle. Your grip tightens on his hand as you feel real fear rising up within your breast. He is not facing you, nor does he seem to notice your fright. His attention is on the circle.
“Hold your breath and follow me. This is going to feel….different.”
You barely have time to take a deep breath before he takes a step forward into the circle, and pulls you along behind him. You shut your eyes tightly and step through. Immediately, you wish you hadn’t.
Your feet do not touch anything solid as you step through the circle. You open your eyes and see that you are completely surrounded by the fluid, silvery liquid. Bright, shining light flashes from all directions and your lungs begin to burn with the need for air. His grip is tight on you, and even though he is close, you have difficulty making out his dim outline in front of you. Your chest is on fire and you begin to kick and struggle violently. There is no air! He holds an iron grip on you, and does not even appear to be moving at all. Your lungs scream their need, and you begin to see dark spots before your eyes. Just when you feel as though your last second is up, there is a brilliant flash of light, and you are thrown to your knees.
You gulp in air greedily as you feel the earth beneath your legs. Your vision clears, and you find yourself looking down at your naked legs kneeling upon a carpet of lush, and strangely fragrant grass. You stand and look around you in bewilderment, and your words catch in your throat.
The land about you; indeed, the very air is tinged with a pale golden hue. You are standing in a gentle mede of tall grass that sways gently in the light breeze. The grass is soft, and the earth yields to your feet as if holding you instead of being trod upon. Before you, the mede flows gently down to the mirrored surface of a crystalline lake bordered by slim birches, shapely willows, and hardy rushes.
The morning mist wafts over the surface of the lake like wispy threads of spider silk, inexplicably causing your heart to ache within your breast. The mournful keen of a hawk as it gracefully drifts overhead in a cerulean sky pierces your very soul, filling you with a longing the likes of which you have never known. There is an energy here; a vibrant, youthful energy that softly resonates in the earth, the grass, the sky. You can feel its' echoes reverberating within your heart not as a reflection of what your senses detect outwardly, but as a warm greeting between two old friends.
Then you notice him standing a few paces off in front of you, his arms outstretched as if drinking in the very air. He is completely naked, and with a start, you realize that you are as well. Strangely, you do not feel embarrassment or even the need to cover yourself. It feels right somehow, like your clothes would somehow be intrusive in this impossible place.
He turns to regard you, a smile on his face. He takes a few steps toward you, his movements graceful and flowing like a dancer’s. Again, he holds out his hand to you. The light in his eyes, before so absent and now so pronounced, causes your words to trail away on the wind.
“I need this place,” he says quietly, his voice the sound of one who has come home. “I am glad you are here to share it with me. Will you run with me?”
Blinking away your tears, you take his hand once again in yours and feel a rush of emotion as he begins to run in a slow gait, his laughter floating upon the gentle breeze. You run as well, marveling in the yielding of the earth to your bare feet. You feel your heart sing within your chest and you stretch your legs in abandonment. The ground rushes by beneath you as you both gain speed. You race over the emerald hills at an impossible speed. You feel as though you could easily soar into the azure depths of the sky were you only possessed of wings. You feel your own laughter bubbling forth as your entire body sings with the rhythm of this enchanted place.
The sun, moon, and stars all pass overhead as your feet barely touch the ground. As you fly over the hills, you are presently aware of other shapes running alongside you; the sleek dark shapes of wolves. They are larger than any you have ever beheld before, and their long legs flow with the roll of the earth. You feel a sudden twinge of fear run through your chest, but it is quickly replaced by a strong sense of familiarity, a strange feeling of kinship and understanding. The wolves run with you, not after you, and you become aware of them all around you.
At length, he slows in front of you, his chest rising and falling with the exertion of his effort. He turns to you and smiles brightly, his face awash in the flush of adrenalin. You find yourself smiling as well. Never has your body, no – your soul felt so alive. He does not release his grip on your hand. Instead, he gently places it to the center of his chest and looks into your eyes.
“This is where reality is the reflection,” he says, his voice an impassioned whisper, “This is where life begins.”
You look around you and see that you are standing on the edge of a small pond of silvery water. The wolves sit in pairs or small groups all around the circumference of the pool on boulders and chunks of grayish stone. This place has a hallowed air about it, a pristine stillness unmarred by the sounds of the night. The moon, larger and fuller than you have ever seen it before, shines brightly overhead. The entire area is awash in its’ pale radiance. Again, you can feel the quiet thrumming of energy beneath your feet, gently reverberating through your body.
He releases you then, and slowly steps into the silver pond, walking out to his waist. He turns to face you and motions to you. Without hesitation, you join him in the center of the pond, the cool water washing over your limbs like a lover’s caress. He smiles a strangely sad smile and gently presses you backward, as he himself does the same. You do not resist, feeling that you have absolutely nothing to fear in this place. The water gently receives you in its’ embrace, and you slowly submerge yourself in it’s silvery depths.
There is a flash of soft, white light and you feel yourself floating aimlessly on a current made of stars and midnight. He is there with you, and you can feel his longing to go back as strongly as your own. The silvery water around you slowly begins to recede, or rather to offer you to the soft light ahead. You close your eyes and enter the light, releasing yourself to its shining embrace.
With a small gasp, you open your eyes to find yourself standing, fully clothed, back in the room you had occupied before your impossible journey. He is sitting directly opposite you, his chin resting on his fists. His eyes are sad, but there is a joy there as well, a contentment. When he speaks, his voice is quiet and he smiles.
“I wanted you to see….to feel that place. I hope you will return and add your song to it. It’s a part of you now, if you choose to accept it as such. I am glad that I could share it with you.”