Cassie finds herself outside. It’s sunny out, and warm. The grass feels soft and wet under her feet. Wild, untamed forest sprawls out just beyond the perimeter of the house. Her arm grips the medallion still, she has not lost it. Cassie tentatively lowers her arm to her side and looks down upon it once more.
Her eyes adjust to the daylight. She surveys her surroundings. She’s standing near the stream where she used to float pinecone boats. She breathes deep and a rush of clean, cold air fills them. Tall Pine and Douglas fur trees and rocks and random bits of bush and grass stretch all around her, as far as the eye can see. She walks over to a tree and places her hand on it. Four letters rest carved into the bark. She traces them with her fingers, allowing them to read the forms for her. CS + H. She closes her eyes and stills her body, pushing her energy into the tree. Words float from her into the tree. Nothing comes back to her. The tree is silent.
Cassie walks over to another tree and repeats the process. The tree does not respond. They all appear silent. Feeling rejected, she briskly walks back to the river.
“Hazel?” she calls out. And waits. A hawk cries overhead, but not in response to her call.
“Hazel? Stick?” she calls out again, louder. The shadows on the trees shorten as the sun climbs higher into the sky. She searches the nearby trees for signs of Hazel’s brown pants and red hair and Stick’s blue naked body.
“Where are you guys? Why aren’t you here?” Panic and dread fill her. She sits down on the ground, pushing the dirt at her feet away from her. A pile of dust floats up from the soil.
“Okay,” she calls out to the trees and air around her, her voice friendly but commanding. “For the rest of the day I will remain RIGHT here. I won’t go anywhere. I know you guys are out there and I’ll wail all day till the sun goes down for you to show your face if I have to.”
She bows her head down towards her chest. Her hair flops over her forehead bobbing. Cassie cries again. The tears landing on her pants and in the dust between her crossed legs. She puts her hands over her face.
Whispering, Cassie calls out once more, “I was not ready. I am not sure I can do this alone. I need you guys. Please don’t leave me all alone. I miss you. Hazel, I love you!”
A few more hours pass. She hears nothing but the sound of the river and birds. No one steps out from behind the trees, laughing. Cassie stands up, her shoulders hunched over in defeat. She turns around to face the river.
Someone left trash on the rock by the river. Cassie goes over to the rock to pick up the garbage. A smile grows on her face as she realizes that the items are not some dumb camper’s trash but a present left for her. Two things sit on the rock; a red, handmade journal, closed together by a piece of leather and a purple feather quill, shoved between the leather and book’s thick cover. Cassie picks up the present and sits down on the rock. The book looks like the one Morrigan had.
Celtic designs adorn the leather cover, reflecting the same design on the medallion hanging around her neck. The Elder’s symbol. She raises the book to her nose, careful not to bend the quill. It smells of a mix of lavender and rose, just like the flowers in the vase of her room in the obelisk. Gently, she places the book in her lap and slowly unties the knot in the leather strap. The quill slips down between her legs. White handmade pages fill the book. A quick flip through it reveals they are all blank. Waiting for her to fill them with her words, her stories and her drawings.
Finally, Cassie presses the book to her chest. She turns her head around her, knowing that she won’t see anyone if they are there, but smiles appreciation all the same. “Thank you,” she softly mutters.
She lays the journal in her lap, retrieves the quill and starts writing.
“Once upon a time..”
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