Rising from the canopy of trees in the early morning light, clouding the horizon mercilessly, wetting the bark of the spruces, soaking the fur of the deer, it is the shapeless form of a body I once knew.
Dark hair floating in the shadow like claws, blending with juniper leaves, larch and fir. The wind starts to murmur gently in the hollowed forest. When I complete my parade everything has turned into a ghostly land. A heaven of hell.
A young girl knows nothing except her beauty. And beauty is misery.
He was born from god and humankind, such a bright man I wasn’t able to see the stars after I met him, blinded by his grace.
We fell in love and so it goes, together against the world. His father was a God, his mother no one knows. A mortal, way too young of a lady, someone whose name does not matter, he said to me, while continuing to talk about his father instead – the king.
I thought he was gentle and he thought I was beautiful. And so he promised me the world. But beauty is temporary; coming from a realm of humans and monsters, the line can blur.
His hair was so bright you could disguise it as wheat in the sun, but sometimes, when the moon was shining, silver threads were visible in there too. Even he was not immune to the passing of the days.
My body was no exception, and he could not bear the sight of it.
It was under the influence of his prayer that the God father worked his miracle. I was there, and then I wasn’t.
I was everywhere and nowhere, in the trees, in the sky.
Light morning mist on the lake. Cold, wet, white smoke. Inconsistent.
I cried but tears morphed into small droplets of water that the crisp air of the north turned into mist.
I, myself, had been turned at the whim of a man, but my soul could not be corrupted the way my body had been.
Without a body to grow old in, I was condemned to an eternity of inconsistency. And without a physical form, I was no one.
The graveyard is silent, nameless tombstones in the cold night air. I circle them, tucking them under my shadow, like the blanket of a sister they will never know. Centuries from now, nothing will change. Sitting above the cliffs, I watch this wicked tale, this mortal dance, go on and on, again and again.
