Fateful Wish

"The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window.” Brandie heard Bastion begin his favorite tale, to a new prospect on the phone, as she headed out the door for her morning constitution with the forest surrounding the rustic home they shared.

She giggled with delight, feeling the rise and fall of the story she had listened to so many times. Bastion always found a new listener for this story on Friday the thirteenth, his voice expert for the telling. His cadence and sense of pause on point, always waiting and watching to draw out the listeners deepest gut response, wether it be laughter or a relenting fear, he truly owned the art of storytelling.

Stepping onto the well worn path an exhalation of relief escaped Brandie, letting the last few days melt off of her, inviting in the smell of fall she felt a strong desire to sing. Melodies began to circle around in her mind, settling on an old favorite, she hummed along to Color My World.

As time goes on, I realize, just what you mean, to me, and now,

now that your near, promise your love, that I’ve waited to share

and dreams of our moments together,

color my world with hopes of loving you

Step after step her eyes absorbed the incredible beauty of Maple leaves turning into an assortment of reds, oranges and golds. Dark green Junipers towered with the Lodgepole Pines and Quaking Aspens creating a magical scenery. Interesting shapes and sizes acted out a play all its own.

She crunched along on the soft bed of pine nettle and Autumn leaves, kicking a pine cone here and there or catching a freshly fallen leaf floating to the ground. Happiness she had been struggling to find flooded in with ease.

Around a corner the crystalline blue of Wolf Lake played peek a boo between the trees, shimmering in the setting sun, the sky above turned a crimson shade as goose bumps tingled on Brandie’s skin. Enmeshed in this time of day, with the shadows beginning to dance around, birds flitting about in their own delightful song, she pushed on to the waters edge.

Standing beside where the river flows in, and the lake receives, a mist rose from the water striking the rocky path on its journey. A blue cloud surrounded Brandie as she breathed in the smorgasbord of nature, all her darker thoughts pushed into the background.

A tiny waterfall, on its journey into the lake pulled Brandie into reminiscing the story she had been working on all week, a story about missing time. Like the river time was constantly on the move.

Her protagonist had been haunted by moments of time he could not mentally grasp, when odd occurrences overlapped. He was nearing an explanation of interference when Brandie became stuck. No words read right, no ideas blended well, everything held a sharpness that made her feel an impending fail.

Hardened words invaded Brandie’s thinking, pushing and pulling her into an emotional wasteland she wandered in far too often. Battering herself with insults and admonishments, her mind stood on an alter, towering over her heart, beating herself to a pulp. Unworthiness bleed into her with a wish to be saved from her failures.

All the rejection letters, the harsh critics who had no tact, “Your story lacks coherence, Your characters need more depth, Your plot is unbelievable.” They can all go strait to hell. She called herself a hack, and wept, she wished to be something different, someone loved and honored for the talents she knew she had, all humility left her, anger filled her blood.

Without any notice the world went black, a roaring sound took over all her senses, her heart beat kept the rhythm, pounding in her head, careful what you wish for, she heard, over and over again.

Her eyes opened to water flooding over rocks, it looked deep and fast, a deafening roaring sound. No longer at the side of Wolf Lake, still positioned in a forest of towering trees, with pine needles and discarded leaves beneath her, she felt pinned to the ground. The sun snuck between branches and warmed the side of her face as pain rained down from somewhere far away. Crippling her flat on her back, darkness returned and took her sight.

In the leaves above her head a smoky image of Bastion and the dogs walking on a dirt path, calling out her name, crept in for her to see.

“Bastion, here I am, please help me, I’m sacred and I don’t know what has happened!” Hearing her whisper she tried to sit up, instantly a lightening bolt hit her like a hot poker inserted inside her head. Bastion was gone, in his place a tormented woman with flaming red hair screamed in vain.

The woman with flaming hair was running through the woods. She was cloaked in an old rag. Brandie saw her bare feet cut and bleeding, scraped against the forest floor, carrying her towards Brandie’s unwanted nest in the woods. An odd connection linked Brandie to the woman's fear, she felt the trembling inside of herself, never had she felt so blended with another being.

The woman's flaming hair spread out behind her like a large bird, stretching it wings in flight. She cried as she ran, reaching out in front of her then hugging herself with arms covered in deep purple cuts and bruises. A group of angry eyed men and women chased her. Most of them carrying fire torches that lit up their blood red screaming faces.

“Be gone with you witch!”

Some of the men picked up stones and threw them at her.

“Never return to us!”

A few of the stones landed their target, cutting and bruising the woman more. This flaming horde wanted to kill her, Brandie felt a desperate need to help. She tried to call out, offer the woman refuge in the pile of leaves she found herself on. Brandie could not find her voice, all she heard was the sound of the woman's breath catching in her throat and the screaming madness running behind her.

Suddenly the woman disappeared and the branches of the trees were back above Brandie’s head. It was getting dark, the branches swayed in a breeze and a chill rushed down Brandie’s spine.

A beautiful full moon rose above her, the water racing down the canyon glimmered in glowing rainbows. Brandie raised her bloodied arm and wondered at the sight. The woman with the flame red hair appeared again, Brandie saw her stumble, running with everything she had, the angry mob close behind. She was only a few yards away when her ragged breathing and the choking of her sobs reached Brandie’s troubled mind. Brandie had never felt so helpless in her life. The woman looked right at Brandie, boring into her eyes and said.

“Hold on Brandie, I am almost there, I will soon be holding you in my arms.” Brandies mind spun in realization, this woman knew her name and was coming for her. Caught in a weird web, Brandie trembled, feeling a deep connection to this woman in flames, a mirror image, a deep desire to be her hero, coupled with a terrified need to escape from harm.

They both reached out towards the others hand, not able to cover the space between them, the nightmare continued on. The woman called upon the moon, an incantation felt familiar from a past Brandie had no memory of.

Full moon of brightest wane

Take away the source of pain

Fade into the dark of night

Bring the seer perfect sight

A fire roared to life surrounding them and cutting off the screaming horde of madness. It grew to unimaginable heights, a circle of salvation, or damnation, Brandie could not seem to wrestle with her understanding. What she had thought a good day turned scary so quickly.

The moon was sending incandescent flickering shadows through the branches swaying above her, a silent message of morse code she vaguely understood.

Howling of a wolf created a sad and mournful sound rippling between her screams, Brandie was suprised she had been screaming. Vibrations of thumping began in the middle of Brandie’s back, something rising up from under the ground beneath her, Brandie froze in fear, tears trickled from her eyes.

“Get ready” she heard, at the same time a light flicked on in the cabin she had not seen there before, right across the river, on a little mossy hill. A ghostly figure looking at her out of a foggy window, a silent gesture was shared.

The earth opened up to receive her and in a flash Brandie was gone into the abyss, no time to make a sound, the flaming woman ran near, whispering in her ear, “Your wish has been granted, I will take you out of here, one within my coven, together we will make them pay, your anger will have its day, Freyja has come to claim you.” Be careful what you wish for, echoed in the cold night air.

When Norse Tribes were converted to Christianity Freyja the Love and Fertility Goddess was labeled a witch. Banished one day in shame to the Mountaintop, Freyja fled in fear. Every Friday spiteful Freyja would convene eleven other witches and the devil. The people of the Norse Tribe believed that Freyja and her coven would cast hateful spells upon them for chasing her away. This weekly gathering of thirteen was credited for many unwelcome and disastrous events. Soon Friday the thirteenth was feared as the unluckiest days of all… *Keeper Of Broken Myths