2 Psithurism

A weathered looking man pondered over at the seven stars rising right before the sun. The twinkling lights rising one at a time from the grey blue. Each shining a different color. The man had awoken from a dream, something told him that the seven siblings had something to show him. His pointed ears perked as he heard foot falls on the slated garden path.

"What has an old geezer like you out of bed this early Garness?" The strapping middle aged man with fiery red hair and viridian eyes made the old man cackle.

"Only you would dare insult the high priest, Verran!" He grumbled at his adult nephew. "What would bring my boisterous nephew… oh my apologies arch duke, Verran; to the top of the battlements at this hour? Hmmm" the raspy voice was laced with gentle sarcasm.

Verran chuckled, "I can the watch the Tevius cluster rise! It's my morning routine you old bastard!" Verran seemed peeved his dear uncle was so venomous.

Shaking his head the old man turned back to watch the last star rise. "BY THE GODS!!"

The seven stars raise in a procession of colors red, blue, green, orange, purple, yellow, then finally the dimmest a flickering white.

They gazed at the seventh star now glowing brighter than all the others, golden white with a pulsating gleam of other colors.

Falling to his knees the Priest rang out a line from their history of the gods, " the seven children of the earth and summer's warmth grace the sky of the dawning sun. The seven jewels of both father's love bring with them valor, intellect, plenty, justice, beauty, kindness, and the brightest creativity."

"Garness!! What are you on about?! I know the stars each represent a different god but the last star has only been a faint… since…." Verran was still too awestruck to turn from the star that had barely shone against the light of dawn for the entirety of his life.

The withered man rambled on with out noticine, "The youngest sibling was the brightest and most cherished by the heavens. They helped each god craft the mortal races, but in the face of destruction, he gave the world life again when the other gods turned away from the ravages their war left upon us….. Verran… the alabaster throb hasn't shone since the mythic age…" the old man looked mystified, trembling on his knees" has the nameless god risen again?"

—————

Gravity over took his shapeless form, feeling the earth beneath him Stratton suddenly gasped for air. All of his senses kicked into gear in a disorienting instant. His eyes were still open as the blinding white faded to hues of sage, gold, and blue gray. He felt cool dampness on his back, the surface spongy and soggy. The sounds of the world seemed to turn on at the same moment, sharp and melodic songs of birds and psithurism, the gentle rustle of sage leaves.

*the feeling of drowning would be subaqueous or the idea of submersion, much like the niche word psithurism or the sound of wind blowing through leaves, these words are uncommon and describe very specific topics. In the earthly language known as English.*

Stratton groaned, his internal voice was far more active than what he was prepared for. It like having someone speaking directly into his ear.

The leaves and sky above started to focus as the roaring sensations lessened, his mind filtering the over abundance. The disorientation was fading as he sat up, taking in gorgeous surroundings. His mouth fell open when he saw a golden sunrise through the canopy of white barked trees. The sound of drizzling rain on the leaves above was soothing. It appeared that the clouds were clearing allowing the now risen sun to illuminate the lush woods around him. He was on the crest of a hill, the grove were he sat was on the face of a short over hang. His position let him see the canopy stretching out bellow the drop for miles, even with the thick vegetation around and above him.

Looking slowly he started taking in the area, the ground was moss cover. The moss showed hues he was certain were not native to his home in the Pacific North West. There was green…. but also blues and purples. The mushrooms on a fallen log close by were indigo with electric green oozing off the frills. The trees had white bark, it looked almost like a cork trees with a flaky texture, but the leaves looked like blades of a willow, silver fuzz atop and deep sage in color. His first thought was how he was definitely not in any forest in Washington state.

*these trees appear to be more like eucalyptus… but the closest forest would be most likely in Australia… 7744 miles approximately. Speaking of Kolas are smooth brained and can't eat eucalyptus off a plate*

The information from his internal monologue was kinda helpful, but he felt a little disappointment at how his mind managed to still end on the random trivia fact.

Taking a moment to gather his racing thoughts Stratton closed his eyes, feeling the moss in his fingers and wiggling his toes he tried to center his mind against the overstimulation after waking. He immediately tensed, a shiver ran up his spin as he felt the tingle of his hair falling off his shoulders; the cool touch of the moss reach not only his feet but up his legs to his ass. Standing up in shock, he was nude.

He looked down at feet and hands, they looked different. His pulse and heart started to race, shaking slightly he look inventory of what he could see. He was thinner almost child like, wiry. The freckles on his skin glowed a warm gold, like stars. His hair fell around his shoulders, covering his chest. Instinctively he moved to push it behind his ears.

He stopped when his ear didn't end where it was supposed to, with shaking fingers he felt his two ear, learning that they no longer ended with a little curve but stuck out at a sharp point. They were from his guess 6-7 inches long. A shiver went through his whole body as pieces fell into place. The flashes of what he just saw the moments before his death and what he was seeing before him made a pit fill his stomach. He was apparently home now?… but where is home?

Feeling frustrated, as he watch the beautiful indigos and gold turn into the gray blue of early morning he ran his hands through his hair.

His stiffed a welp when his fingers hit a hard surface atop in crown. He frantically felt up the foreign mass, it was rough and continued up off his head curving towards his back, but the thing seemed to… branch out..

He started frantically looking for something, any thing that was reflective. Turning away from the glorious morning sun he blindly set off into the trees to find a puddle or something as panic set in. He could hear the babble of a stream so he ran for the source.

It look him a short time down the small slope to find a small stream. The bubbling sound came from the small water fall formed over a log as it ran into a lake. The lake was actually pretty massive, had the trees not been so thick Stratton would have seen it immediately when he turned around on the hill. The placid waters reflected the small island on one side of lake, a larger river flowed outward by the small island. After being lost in the tranquil beauty for a moment Stratton immediately stared into the glassy surface. Blood stopping cold.

His body was as he noticed was far younger tahn he had been prior to waking. Wiry and thin, his body looked to be seven years of age. However he looked like a nymph of the mythologies he like so much. His freckles glowed of golden starlight. He eyes were like honey, but the ring around his pupil glowed white. His eyes looked like a solar eclipse making the darkness of his pupil far more intense from the contrast. His ears pointed seven inched back and angled slightly up, they looked as sharp as blades. Truly the shock lay with his new appendages…

Rising up from his crown were antlers. On closer examination, he noticed that they were more like branches. Shaped like antlers, white barked branches rose three feet above his hair, sage leaves with a silvery sheen adored his horns. Mouth agape he turned his head slowly from side to side. He didn't feel strained moving as if his body was already accepting and accustomed to the sudden additional weight.

He looked around suddenly worried about being seen. A nude child in the forest… Stratton was used to nude beaches, there were three in his city, however he was not used to looking like a child. Looking like a eldrick fairy was not something people are used to, so he scampered back to the tree line. His franticness in his accent made him trip over a broken branch and fall head long into a tree trunk.

Normal circumstances dictate that he would have a bad head ache. However when he made contact with the bark, he kept falling forward as a pulling sensation enveloped him completely. Instead of face planting Stratton's body melded into the trees bark, becoming one in an instant.