Stars that dwell not in the sky
But sparkle in dark woods
Glowing ever out of reach
Lead ye to no good
Follow not will-o'-the-wisps
For never if thy do
Shall ye see thy home once more
But wander, ever doomed
Beware the cursed faerie's lights
Lest ye be led astray
Set one foot not off the road
Or off road ye shall stay
But sparkle in dark woods
Glowing ever out of reach
Lead ye to no good
Follow not will-o'-the-wisps
For never if thy do
Shall ye see thy home once more
But wander, ever doomed
Beware the cursed faerie's lights
Lest ye be led astray
Set one foot not off the road
Or off road ye shall stay
There was a reason the old nursery poem flitted through her thoughts like a breeze through bushes, gentle yet insistent, tangible but out of reach. It was a good reason, too. It was completely understandable that her surroundings would remind her of words from a bed time story long ago, because it looked as if the world was nothing more or less than a faerie tale: a forest, dark and mysterious yet oddly compelling, wearing a silver shroud of mist that seemed to sparkle in the moonlight, a silence so deep and ancient she was certain that even if she tried to speak, her voice would not obey.
Everyone knew by heart the warnings told generation after generation. 'Don't go off the path.' 'Don't accept gifts from strangers.' 'Don't travel alone at night.' The sayings were woven into fantastic tales of magic and mystery, as much for entertainment as education. However, such things were purely born of completely non-magical events, such as bandits and wolves and such. If you wander alone at night, you could get lost or injured. Not kidnapped by a witch. And of course you shouldn't trust a stranger, though they are more likely trying to rob you than place a faerie curse. All the superstitions, all the warnings, all the stories and rhymes...charming, but not real.
And yet...
She still believed in magic, and the monsters that came with it. As did her family: her mother who taught her the stories, her grandmother who taught her mother, back for as long as anyone could remember.
She still believed in fairy tales.
How could she not?
She was trapped in one.
Her soul was taken by the fae
Her heart was swallowed whole
Her body left a stringless doll
Upon a grassy knoll
Ever does she wander now,
And pray you never meet.
She searches to replace her soul
Yours she'd gladly eat.
Her heart was swallowed whole
Her body left a stringless doll
Upon a grassy knoll
Ever does she wander now,
And pray you never meet.
She searches to replace her soul
Yours she'd gladly eat.
She could vaguely remember who she was. A girl, a human. Daughter of a farming couple in a quaint village. She had three - no, four siblings. Two brothers, two sisters. She had been...sixteen? Fifteen? Something like that, but it mattered little anymore. She hadn't been touched by time or anything so mortal in a long time. Memories of childhood, of sunshine, of meadows and fields swam like minnows through her mind, fleeting and only half-glimpsed.
She could not remember her name or her face. No reflection would reveal much more than ghostly figure, features blurred. She was no ghost, though. To be a ghost one would have to be dead, and to be dead one would first need to live.
Without a soul she could do neither.
No name, no face, no feelings. The one thing that distinguished her from an empty husk of a body was the one instinct she had left - to find what was missing. To be complete. She wandered the dark woods in search of her soul, inadvertently giving birth to stories and myths throughout the area of a ghost maiden.
Sometimes, she was said to be tragically beautiful - draped in layered white, with midnight hair that trailed behind her like a dark veil, haunted gray eyes and unblemished pale skin. Others, she was said to be a hideous banshee, with needles for teeth and eyes like hot coals, lurking in the darkness for an unwary traveler, whose soul she would devour to replace her own.
Neither were true. She looked much like she did before, plain. But there was clearly something...not right about her, in the way that no matter how much one looked one could not clearly tell her facial features, or the way she stared without seeing, or walked without seeming to feel the ground. One might feel that she would simply pass through solid objects for all she was tied to this realm.
Few tried to talk to her, but none managed to catch her attention. Perhaps it couldn't be caught. One thing about her, though, was certain. She wandered, and would continue to do so for all of eternity...or until she reclaimed her soul.
