The Realms

The original Cypress Cemetery was an ancient graveyard said to be filled with the bodies of witches, making the graveyard and surrounding lands cursed and the dirt baron. The old Cypress Cemetery became known as the Witches Graveyard as the trees and plants eventually died off, and soon it started affecting the farmlands. The small town became hysterical, neighbors blaming neighbors, and families turned on one other. One day a farmer's eldest son saw a figure go into the woods, so the young man followed. What he saw had him running back to town and straight to the town's clergymen, where the farmer's son recounted what he saw in the woods. A mob was formed that night; they stormed the house of an older woman and her granddaughter. They forcefully took the granddaughter out of her bed and dragged her to the town square. They bound her wrists and ankles to a wooden table, logs placed around it, ready to burn the witch. Her cheeks were stained with tears as they found her guilty of witchcraft. They burned an innocent soul that night. But she did not go quietly, for the townspeople had wronged her. So, with her last breath, she cursed the village that there would be a day when a greater evil would come and destroy the town of Cypress and all who lived there.

I don't believe she was a witch. She had been an orphan, her grandmother the only family she had left. They lived on the outskirts of town near the woods. Because of this, the townspeople were weary of them, for no sane person would live so close to woods that hold a great evil. Because of their fear, she was ridiculed and hated by her peers. She had found solace in a place where she knew no one would go. Her charred remains were buried with all the other witches. Her soul was damned never to have peace in the afterlife. It just shows how much people can be cruel to those who are different. And I would know; my family wasn't born here; we had moved to this small town because of my parents' work. Although I had only been three, many people living in the town of Cypress had been here for generations, many going back to the first settlers. The people were weary of newcomers, and even though the curse never came to fruition, most still feel the curse still lingers, waiting to strike. The story of that night was passed down from generation to generation, leaving each filled with trepidation. Throughout my childhood, I was bullied for being an outsider. I was surrounded by children who were supposed to be my peers. Still, their fear and uncertainty caused by their parent's lies filled their impressionable minds.

Fifteen years later, my parents were found dead near the Witches' Graveyard; their deaths were deemed unknown, but there had been no investigation, and why should there be? They were witches, after all. To make things easier, they just said it was due to their work; whatever that may be, no one knew what they were working on or what they were doing in the woods every day and night. Not knowing what to do, the Founders had my parents buried in the Witches' Graveyard to ease the people of their worries; I didn't try to fight them on the matter; I knew I wouldn't win. After the death of my parents, people became more hostile toward me. I couldn't walk down the street without being sneered at or hearing the hushed whispers of gossip as I walked by groups of people. But I stayed in this town. I stayed for my parents because I wanted to know the truth, what they were doing, and why. It's been three years since my parents passed, and I don't know any more than I did back then. I scoured through all their journals and filing cabinets but couldn't find anything that led to their deaths. Most of the private journals were written in code, a code only my parents knew, and what I could read didn't make any sense. I spent months trying to decipher them but always came up short. I was ready to give up, pack my things, and leave this town behind for good, but I knew I wouldn't do that; I couldn't; my parents were my only family. I couldn't leave them behind in a town filled with people that hated them. During stressful times I liked to visit them; even in death, they gave me the strength to keep moving. This was one of those nights. I spent all day deciphering the codes once more. I didn't get anywhere as usual, but I had to keep trying to know the truth; I have to know.

It was late in the evening I felt it best to go under cover of darkness, away from the prying judgmental eyes of the people. The fog was thicker than usual on this night, making the town seem engulfed in a smokey haze. The cold sank deep in your bones, and the eerie fog was so thick it could hide anything from view; who knows what monsters lurk just beyond your vision? The path to the Witches Graveyard is just beyond the park, off one of the many abandoned trails that wrapped around the old cemetery. People once walked the trails; there was a time they weren't scared of the evil that lurked in the darkness of the woods; that changed when we moved into town. I found out many things had changed when we arrived. People started to believe in the curse again and forbid anyone to go near the Witches' Graveyard. Many thought this caused my parents' death; even though they were witches didn't make them immune. After my parents' burial, those who worked in the graveyard became violently ill, cementing everyone's belief in the curse. I didn't believe it; many factors could have caused the men to become sick.

It was a cold night; I pulled my jacket around me, and my body shivered as I went down the trail. It was only a ten-minute walk, the woods unnaturally quiet as I found the turn for the graveyard. I worked my way down the winding path, weaving under and around dead branches and trees. Finally, I found myself in a clearing; the full moon's soft glow glinted off the headstones, and the hazy fog also lingered here, weaving around each headstone. I found the scenery breathtaking. While others feared the Witches' Graveyard, I had always found it comforting. I have never seen the graveyard to be anything but what they say. The only vile things in this town are those who live in it. Whenever I come here, I never feel the cold presence of evil that many have claimed, only the warmth of solace and peace.

I inhaled a deep breath of the cold night air and slowly made my way to the other side of the clearing. The townsfolks' fears were confirmed when the surrounding plant life perished. The ground was bare, and nothing grew from the tainted soil ever again, while the dead hollowed-out trees marked the perimeter. An icy chill ran up my spine, and it wasn't because of the cold; this time, something had shifted in the air. For the first time, all I could feel was uneasiness in a place where I felt the safest. I decided to ignore it. The moon's light had faded, leaving me in almost complete darkness. The heavy fog became thicker and began to wrap around me like a thick blanket. I could no longer see the headstones that once surrounded me; it had become unnatural the way it formed, but it did not matter.

I knew the layout of the graveyard by heart; I could find my way with my eyes closed if I ever wanted to. I fumbled a few times on a few loose rocks. After recovering, I kept walking, and soon I found myself in front of my parents. They lay side by side; I crumbled to my knees. Looking at the headstones with their names, The dew-soaked ground seeped through my jeans, making my whole body numb. I tried to hug them both in my arms which were difficult because of the wide gap between them. Memories played through my mind like father had that stupid crooked grin on his face every time he told a cheesy joke and how mother hummed the same tune whenever she cooked. Mother had always smelt of lilacs and the earth, while father smelt like ink and old parchment. Their work kept them busy most of the time, leaving me alone, but they had always made up for the lost time.

"'Tis quite a dreary night to beest taking a stroll in the woods for a young miss such as yourself." A small gasp left my lips as the sudden appearance of someone standing close by startled me. I stared at the stranger in front of me; they were shrouded in a mist that seemed separate from the fog that engulfed us. It wrapped around their body, obscuring their face and giving them the appearance of a shadow-like figure that stood just a few feet away. I don't recognize their voice; they can't possibly be from town, so who is this stranger?

"I wasn't just taking a little stroll through the woods. I just wanted to see my parents," I rarely ever talked to people, but to think I would be out in the middle of the woods in an old graveyard just for the hell of it is absurd. My voice was barely above a whisper. As I looked from the stranger to my parents, my eyes started to water, but I held them back. He was just a stranger like everyone else. I will not give them the satisfaction of seeing me cry.

"Ah. Aye, I shouldst hath't did expect as such. Thy parents' wast valorous people." They spoke with an air of eloquence around them. Yet, what I could see through the mist-like substance that flowed around them, their posture was stiff and proper. How very odd.

"You knew my parents," my ears perked up, and hope swelled in my heart. If he knew them, I could get some answers. "How," I asked with desperation laced in my voice that I couldn't hide. Confusion, apprehension, and excitement coursed through my body, and I no longer felt the chill of the damp ground beneath me.

"I did know those folk quite well. We did work closely together up until their untimely death." Wait, he worked with my parents? Questions reeled through my mind as I tried to make sense of everything this stranger was saying. My parents didn't work with anyone; it had always just been them. Then why is this stranger saying he knew them and that they worked with them? Who is this person?

"But my Par-" The weather drastically changed, cutting me off. I got to my feet, ready to flee if I had to. The wind picked up, forceful gusts nearly knocking us to the ground. The temperature dropped as I held myself tightly in my arms, as little puffs of smoke could be seen every time I exhaled. Every hair on my body began to prickle. I noticed the stranger had picked up on the change as well. They became more alert as they paced, looking for something or someone. Then, they abruptly stopped before me and held their hand out. I noticed their hand and the mist encased it; they wore black leather fingerless gloves. Do people still wear fingerless gloves?

"Prithee, miss, forgive me, but I feeleth we should be going." I stood there, staring at this stranger, unsure if they could be trusted or if they were telling the truth about knowing my parents. They didn't just know them; they worked with them. I continued to stare blankly at his half-gloved hand. If what he says is true and they did work closely with my parents, then Maybe… I was about to place my hand in his when a forceful wind knocked me over. "Apace, anon, we don't have much time. They art hither," they turned to me; fear was evident as they spoke, their voice getting louder and more forceful the longer I hesitated. Dark clouds adorned the sky blocking out what little light we had. My heart raced as the suffocating darkness took hold of me, and panic coursed through my veins. What's going on? I frantically brushed the hair from my face as it wrapped around me. A deranged cackling can be heard in the distance.

"What was that?" I tried to yell over the howling wind. I don't think he heard me; I couldn't even hear myself over the howling wind. The cackling was soon accompanied by thumping that shook the ground. The fog around us became dense and suffocating, making it harder to breathe. I did not doubt that something horrible was about to happen. I glanced at the stranger from the corner of my eye. I couldn't see them, not with the fog and slashing of the wind whipping my hair in front of my face. They knew what was coming, and it wasn't good. I gulped in anticipation and terror of what we would meet. But before whatever it was came any closer, the stranger grabbed my arm and pleaded, "Quickly now, come hither. We needeth to wend deeper into the woods." They didn't hesitate as my arm jerked me forcefully from the ground dragging me with them as they took off running, with me fumbling behind, trying to catch my footing. A harsh, high-pitched screech could be heard from behind us. And what followed was something I never thought possible; a spark of blue flames flashed before me as it flew through the air missing me by a few inches and scorching the tree beside me. A scream was lodged in the back of my throat as I felt the heat of the flames; it had been real. There was no mistaking the charred burnt smell of wood that lingered in my nose. Soon I was out of breath, my throat dry, and in dire need of a break. Every time I slowed, the stranger would pull my arm harder.

Where are we even going? My mind raced with hundreds of possibilities for what could happen, but none seemed right. Finally, I let out a small squeak as I tripped over a tree root and crashed into the stranger. Dazed, I lay there, my eyes closed, not wanting to move or get up until I felt the gentle rise and fall of the ground. Realization hit me as I opened my eyes and saw the stranger beneath me. Quickly I pushed myself off of them and moved away, making sure there was enough space between us. My face felt hot, and I'm sure it wasn't from exhaustion. OK, that was embarrassing, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean. I ju- I tripped, and I-I'm sorry." My voice trailed off as they sat up, face pained, and their hand clutched the back of their head, "are you OK," I softly questioned them, hoping they didn't get hurt too badly. I cursed under my breath my ability to trip over everything.

The dense canopy of trees blocked out any light. Maybe some other night, there would be the soft rays of moonlight, but the weather seemed to have a mind of its own, and that was to keep us in the dark. I tried to study the stranger again; even being so close to them, their face and body were still shrouded. I couldn't identify any defining features they hid behind the mysterious mist-like substance that seemed to cling to them like a second skin. I wished I could see his face; maybe I would recognize them then. They checked their hand; They opened their mouth about to speak but was cut off by an insistent cackling.

"Ah, finally caught up to you," a man with bird-like wings stepped from the shadows. His voice was smooth and taunting. Behind the man came bull-like people that towered above him; they held various weapons in their hands, ready to strike. They were all menacing and dangerous in their own way; the bird man stood out, much smaller and more delicate. His wings were mesmerizing to look at, a combination of light gold and dark bronze with flecks of white that shimmered from the glowing light of his hands. He must be the one that was throwing the fireballs. The woods are too dark to see much of anything, but I can tell from the flames that the man's nose and chin are both thin and pointed; a wide mouth that took up most of his face formed an unsettling open smile that showed off his sharp teeth. He was undoubtedly the most dangerous out of all of them. The bull men grunted and snorted, leaving puffs of smoke around them, mixing with the dense fog.

"Who. What. How. What the hell are you people?" My voice rose an octave higher than usual, but no one paid me any mind. The two strangers glowered at one another. I was so confused about what was happening; why was this happening? What were my parents doing? I started pulling at my hair, a habit I tend to do when I get overly stressed, trying to make sense of it all. Finally, the birdman broke eye contact with the stranger to look at me instead. He frowned for a second, then an amusing smile appeared, making his mouth wider than before; the flames that engulfed his hands burnt out as he bent over in laughter. His laughter was not like the cackling from before; it was far worse; it was earsplitting. I covered my ears; my tangled fingers made it difficult. No one else moved; I stared at him, brows knit together and teeth clenched from the pain his laughter brought.

"Oh, this is just too perfect." He chuckled, took a deep breath, and continued, "she doesn't know anything." The birdman raised his right hand, and it lit up once more, "This will be too easy." Fear spiked in my veins once more. And here I thought this guy couldn't get any creepier. I stumbled to get up, the stranger helping me along the way. We ran for another five minutes dodging the balls of fire from behind us and the unmoving trees ahead of us. One of the blue flames had gotten surprisingly close to me, catching my jacket and singeing the fabric. I hope we get somewhere safe soon and out of the reach of this maniac.

The stranger abruptly stopped. The sudden act had me face-planting into their back. I rubbed my sore nose and looked around us; we stopped in another clearing, what little I could see. I am not familiar with this part of the woods. There was no telling how deep we were in. The stranger started muttering words under their breath; it sounded like some other language, but I couldn't be sure. I began to pace, my anxiety getting the best of me as I started to pull at my hair again. I fought the urge to bother them to know what they were doing and why but I was too scared to disturb whatever they were doing.

Looking at the stranger, then out to the glowing blue light flickering behind the trees, getting closer and closer with every passing second, we stood there. Suddenly, their arms flew in front of them and out to each side of their body, startling and making me jump back as a clear shimmer of light surrounded us. My mouth agape, I gazed at it in bewilderment and awe. I walked up to it, watching the thin light form a barrier around us. Distracted by the shimmering wall, I watched how it lit up with colors every time I touched it. Blue flames exploded and dispersed around me, blocked by the thin veil of light. A small squeak left my parted lips as I stepped back, tripping over my feet and falling hard on my backside. The birdman and the bulls were upon us.

"Anon Quick, the protective barrier won't hold for much longer." The stranger screamed, effectively getting my attention. Half his body was leaning out of a hole. The hole was more like a tear. Their hand held out to me once more, and for the first time since meeting them, I could see their face; it wasn't one I recognized, but deep down, I knew I wasn't going to. I sat there staring, their hair stark white, eyes shimmered of pale lavender with floating specks of liquid silver. I sat there stunned; I couldn’t move; all I could do was stare in wonder; how was any of this possible? My eyes skimmed the stranger once more but couldn’t take anything else in except their eyes; they held a secret and infinite knowledge. They were also pleading, desperate for me to go with them. Just then, the barrier started to crack and crumble. I heard the faint cackling of the birdman and looked behind me to find him standing there on the other side, wearing that unsettling grin. I got to my feet and ran to the stranger. Looking into their eyes, I knew I could trust them, and this could be my only chance to get some answers about my parents and what they had been working on all those years. The barrier shattered around us as I took the stranger's hand. They quickly pulled me through; I watched how the silver flecks danced around the pale lavender of his irises as the hole closed up behind us.