Fairy Ring
"It's just an old wives' tale," Marisa scoffed to herself.
She stepped forward into the toadstool circle and stumbled as the forest around her was whisked away, replaced with a glittering colorscape full of beautiful lights and melodic sounds. One more step forward and with a gasp she found that she was out of the ring; the lights suddenly brighter and more vivid, the air around her shimmering like dust motes captured within a beam of sunlight. Marisa stood and marveled at the beautiful scene, only slowly becoming aware that it was getting harder and harder to breathe.
The dust! What had that old crone said about leaving the circle? Gasping for air, Marisa turned and scrambled back into the ring, realization dawning too late that of course it would only work one way.
Translation of a summer song; author unknown:
Take heed, my child, the ancient ways The warnings writ in clay and stone And ne'er cross the gates to Fae The realm far sealed with blood and bone
The Faerie folk, the ancient dread Their venom, malice overflowing No place have they to rest their head Immortal hatred ever-growing
Unholy air a wicked trap Insidious Faerie dust abounds For while it heals, still yet it saps Its victim's breath and slowly drowns
