#kfar

Everything’s just been getting so out of hand lately. The world’s a mess, people are cruel, and I can’t seem to find a place to belong. Sometimes, there’s little elsewhere to go besides into my own mind. I don’t want to bury myself away forever, or escape the world completely, but a temporary refuge, just for when I’m asleep…that would be nice. I think I’d be content if I could just have that little slice of heaven for myself. 

So one night, when I went to sleep, I filled my head with thoughts of building the perfect hideaway. A place for me and anyone else I wanted to invite. I knew I wanted to build it in the woods, a deciduous forest to be precise. I’ve never lived as close to woodlands as I would have liked, but I’ve been on enough camping trips and woodland retreats to know that a deciduous forest is the kind of environment I’d want to have surrounding my dream house. I pictured a gorgeous forest dotted with evergreens and trees bare with the current winter season that would turn all sorts of beautiful warm colors in the fall. And when I opened my eyes, I found myself in that forest, right in the middle of a large clearing. 

For a moment, I listened in, breathing in the crisp winter night air. It was quiet and still. No animals would be out and about for some time, besides maybe a few deer and small birds in the daylight. I imagined the sounds of people living in this clearing. Laughing, talking amongst themselves, a few voices singing in the distance. Then, I opened my eyes again. Yes, I thought. This was the place.

I began with the image of a large wood-and-stone ski lodge. It would have to be a home and living space for much more than just myself, so I wanted to make it large to begin with, to minimize how much I’d have to alter it later on. I added a special feature to the doors, which I kept at a standard height for now--they would automatically adjust to the height of anyone that tried to enter. I made sure the ceilings were all quite high, knowing I’d want to invite at least a few individuals who far exceeded natural human height. I made sure the main living area had plenty of seating. I placed a large fireplace at the leftmost side of the space.

No one would really need to eat in the dream world, but large gatherings just weren’t the same without food. So I added a kitchen and a dining hall which matched the overall ski lodge aesthetic of the place. Everyone would need a place to sleep, but I figured I’d handle those living arrangements as the place gained residents, not before. I figured it would be easier to ask the guests what they wanted directly rather than guess for them. And I didn’t like the idea of conjuring up a full set of spaces right away if they weren’t going to be used immediately. So for the time being I just built a large blank room, intending to gradually fill it with doors that would act as warp points to the residents’ homes. Rooms for other activities and purposes could be added later. Now, it was time to start sending out invitations.

But before I could start drafting them up, something pulled my attention away. A voice, a deep baritone, was echoing throughout the trees that surrounded my refuge. It was singing, an operatic tune whose words were too muffled by the walls of the lodge to make out. I walked outside, listening in to pinpoint the direction of the sound. I knew the voice well, but it seemed to be coming from all directions at once. I couldn’t figure out which direction to choose in order to follow it. But at least I could make out the words, now. 

“Come, wayward souls, that wander through the darkness, there is a light for the lost and the meek…Sorrow and fear are easily forgotten, when you submit to the soil of the earth…”

If I couldn’t follow the voice to find him, I’d lead him to me, instead. So, I took a deep breath and tried to make my voice as loud and proud as possible…which wasn’t easy, after going several years without choir practice.

“Grow, tiny seed,” I began at a soprano pitch. “You are gone to the tree…” Another breath, and then an ascending scale. “Rise, ‘til your leaves fill the sky, until your sighs fill the air in the night!” Another breath, and I made my voice echo as much as it could. “Lift your mighty limbs, and give praise to the fire!”

Silence for a moment, and then, from the trees directly ahead of me, a sound like hands made of wood clapping. From the darkness of night appeared two round lights like radiant eyes. “Well done,” the same baritone from the song spoke up. “You are a bit out of practice, but I knew you still remembered the song.”

The singer stepped forth from the treeline. A tall, vaguely humanoid figure cloaked in shadow and wrapped in a cape of fallen leaves. They, too, were drenched in impenetrable darkness. Thin, curving branches grew from his head like a set of grand antlers. In one hand, he held the handle of a lantern made of dark, dull metal, which housed a light that was almost blinding when gazed into.

My heart fluttered out of both trepidation and admiration as he approached. I can’t say that I’ve ever felt completely safe around him, but that was one of the things I found so enticing about him. The Beast, a creature as mysterious, intimidating, and beautiful as the depth of a starless night. The very epitome of a literary devil figure, whose silver tongue he used to trick grieving and lonesome souls into doing his bidding. His bidding was horrid, sinister work, trapping the lost and the weary within Edelwood trees and using their oily sap and wood to fuel his ever-hungry soul--the burning light within his lantern. He had a passion for song, and his haunting operatic vibrato carried unnaturally far. He was a monster straight out of a dark fairytale, one whose voice and devilish charms I’d never been able to resist.

“Couldn’t resist being the first one here, huh?” I jested with a smile.

“For you, no distance could ever be too great,” the Beast replied smoothly. “Though I found it quite convenient that you decided to build your refuge within my forest.”

I glanced around at the trees for a moment, realization dawning upon me. “Right…,” I began. “Probably should have expected you to show up first. Deep, dark, wintery woods are pretty much your entire aesthetic.”

The Beast moved closer, looking up at the lodge itself. “Hm…,” he pondered. “I don’t intend to spend much time within it,” he said, glancing back down towards me from his position directly to the right. “But it is quite striking.” 

His presence had the uncanny ability to drop the temperature surrounding him by quite a few degrees. Enough that I still noticed while standing outside in the already-frigid winter night. Up close, his eyes were like the visible spectrum of light given off by a candle’s flame. They really were quite beautiful, in a haunting, mesmerizing sort of way.

“So you’ll stick around?” I asked hopefully. 

The Beast chuckled, though his eyes showed no hint of emotion. He reached for my head with his free hand--the one not holding his lantern--and affectionately petted my hair. “Of course,” he replied in a tone that sounded unusually friendly.

“And you’ll play nice with the others?” I added, raising an eyebrow. 

He bent down towards my level and moved his hand from my hair to my chin, tilting my head further upward. “My dear…I will not make a promise to you that I cannot keep.” He leaned in and pressed the lower part of his face--where a mouth would have been--to my forehead. When he pulled away, he left a small smudge of Edelwood oil there.