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what are you even doing out here in the cold? how did you get this far into the forest? tracking through snow for miles, the ice fileting your fingers to the bone with cold.
do you remember how you got here? do you remember why you're bleeding?
do you remember hearing the whispers before? do you remember as a child, when a visitor came and sat by your bedside. they told you a secret, their form made of shadows and smoke. they said to you, "we shall meet again."
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so I was doing a run through Eden recently, and taking screenshots whenever I could, when I noticed something during the flight to orbit.
NOTE THAT BEYOND THE CUT HAS SPOLIERS FOR THE FLIGHT TO ORBIT!
My fave elder spirits!!
(Edited to add the twins bc they're all my faves.)
Oops. Forgot jar guy. š š Sorry!
as you went out for the last time that night, bundled up in your long coat, you could swear you felt something.
a whisper?
a breath, cold on your warm skin?
perhaps just the wind?
you go to fix yourself in the mirror, at this point it's more of an empty habit than an actual gesture.
your reflection has been missing for months now.
while washing your face, you hear a loud crash from your bedroom. you dash into the room, but nothing is there.
on your way out, you catch a glimpse in the mirror and startle. your reflection has returned, it's staring at your back with a wicked look on its face.
it looks misshapen, almost as if it's dying.
it cocks it's head to the side, as it slinks into the hallway. you suddenly miss it's prolonged absence
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young traveller, sleep easy.
your journey has been very difficult, such fragile things weren't meant to carry such burdens.
young traveller, I will guard you in the night. I will stand outside of your fire while you sleep to keep watch.
who let you go to the forest alone?
young traveller, your parents did not know how to handle themselves. they're scared children on the inside too.
I will take care of you.
young traveller, sleep easy. your new life has begun.
you have unseen friends, trust in me.
there is a great hate between the stars
you see it, and in turn, it sees you.
say hello, maybe it's only a great hate because it's never known compassion
it's that time of year again, and tonight the weather is perfect. you know it'll be waiting for you.
gather your supplies, spare nothing. you never know what you'll need in your most desperate moment of need. you need to be there before the last ray of sunlight disappears, hurry.
you wind yourself through the woods behind your house. they'll try to stop you, you can't say how many times the trees have rebelled against you. you can't be sure how many times they've misguided and trapped you until daybreak.
you're sure this time, not spending time enjoying the scenery. block out your senses, they won't help you here.
you've made it to the edge of the river, it's almost time. sail out exactly 1.2 miles, not an inch farther, and extinguish any light. the moon will provide enough.
the river will try to mangle you with its teeth. you can't let it. you have to make it.
you maneuver the vessel swiftly, dodging the jagged rocks and unforgiving rapids.
you see the tree, you see your marker glowing a bright auburn in its side.
but you've moved too quickly. you fumble and your raft flips over. the last thing you saw before you went under was a sad smile. she was there waiting for you.
you hear a muffled phrase before you lose consiousness, "try again next year."
