Inal Bilsel
Our Time Together
“Oh, the Wise Old Druid is always awake,” Cloudman
replied, “Even when he isn’t, he is.”
“What does that mean?” Lulu asked, frowning.
Cloudman grinned down at her, his eyes glowing
faintly. “You’ll see.”
They continued through the underbrush, their
footsteps muffled by the thick carpet of moss. The
forest seemed to close in around them, the trees
twisting and bending in ways that defied logic. Lulu
could have sworn one of the trunks had a face carved
into it—no, not carved, but shifting subtly, its hollow
eyes watching her as she passed. She quickened her
pace, staying close to Cloudman.
After what felt like hours, a faint light appeared in the
distance, flickering like a star caught among the trees.
As they approached, the light grew steadier, revealing
a small, candlelit hut nestled within a dense grove of
ivy. The hut seemed to lean slightly to one side, its roof
patched with moss and its windows glowing warmly
against the darkness.
“This must be it,” Cloudman said, his voice soft.
They stepped up to the wooden door, its surface etched
with strange runes. Cloudman knocked, the sound
echoing hollowly into the quiet.
[ Continue reading at: https://www.inalbilsel.com/_files/ugd/0a0c7b_17f6b4608e4a4535af3a0f2071fee124.pdf]
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