The Encounter

It was colder than usual. I could feel the icy wind nipping at my skin. I shivered, then wrapped my fur coat tightly around my waist. Looking down the valley, I could see the faint glow of the village lights shimmering in the distance. The evening sun was setting to the west, where the peak of Mount Absard soared, casting a dark shadow across the valley like a blanket. We weren't allowed outside after nightfall - especially in the mountains. That's what my mother had told me.   

As I lay down on the dusty ground to gaze at the twilight sky, the chimes of the evenfall bells echoed. I closed my eyes, listening to the rhythm. It was peaceful. At home, this would've irritated me. But up here, it was soothing, like a melodic tune bouncing along the cliff face. Suddenly, it stopped. It was quiet again. The soft chirps of nearby crickets filled the air. I took it in. And slowly, I felt myself drift away. 

“Rosetta…my child…” 

I jerked upright, rubbing my weary eyes. A pitch of darkness had engulfed the mountains. I looked up. The sky now glistened with bright stars. Was it night already? I glanced back towards the village. The moon shone with a pure white light that illuminated it like a lamp. I stumble to my feet. A sudden tingling of pain shot through my legs. I groaned. 

There was an eerie silence. No crickets chirping, no birds singing. How strange! I thought. I tried to brush it off and quickly threw my sachet over my shoulder. I knew I had to get home. Mother was going to be angry. 

I trekked down the steep, winding, narrow path - flickers of mud splashed against my rugged pants.

Nearby, wolves howled hungrily. I kept my eyes fixated ahead as I shuffled my feet along the rocky terrain, feeling the changing surface - the texture, the corroding edges, the roots and the small boulders. The main road sat at the edge of the old woods. It was a short, distant walk. I've travelled the route many times - from dusk to dawn. I knew it well. In the daylight, they were immaculate with the gleaming sun peaking through their towering evergreen leaves, the colourful mushrooms of blues and reds growing on the side of old stumps and the small rabbits that frolicked the forest floor, hunting for hidden insects and fruits amongst the patches of grass. Looking down on it now, the trees looked gloomy and harrowing at night, like an endless tunnel of darkness. 

Another shiver ran down my spine. I remembered the story my mother read me when I was a child, about the young boy who ventured into the woods at dusk to fetch some berries for his father. His mother told him never to stray from the path and to mark every branch with a red ribbon to help him find his way home. The young boy gathered a basket of berries, and as he returned, a storm began to brew. He ignored it. Then. The rain came and softened the ground. The soil turned to mud. When the boy returned to the track, it crumbled downwards. He fell further into the forest, into the darkness. Tears streamed down his cheek. 

 "Mother? Father? Please help me!" he cried. 

A large grey wolf emerged from the shadowy bushes. And as he tried to scream, the wold leapt onto him and ripped him limb for limb. 

I wiped my hair from my eyes and sighed heavily. Even as a child, the story was gruesome. What if a wolf was waiting, quietly hidden behind the trees? I unclipped my pouch and pulled out a small handcrafted knife. It was my father's before he passed. I gently brushed my thumb along the symbol on the bottom of the handle - a white-painted dove intertwined between two rose stems - and welded it front. Then, composing myself, I wandered through. 

The sweet scent of forest flowers brought a sense of sensation and comfort. I slowed down and listened - to the trees creaking and groaning as they moved effortlessly in the gentle breeze, the owls' calls, and the mosquitoes buzzing. There was still life in the night. 

Soon, a faint light danced in the distance. I picked up the pace. Nearly there, I thought. Suddenly, the ground devoured me. I fell. Rocks and dirt tumbled. I couldn't breathe. The taste of soil gasped my mouth, drowning me. Am I dead? A crushing pain ripped through my chest. I felt nauseous. Then everything stopped. I lay still, buried in piles of mud. 

"Rosetta…my child…" a ghostly voice whispered. 

My eyes widened. Mother? I brushed off the dirt. Blood trickled down my cheek and knees. I let out a soft whimper, then crawled onto my feet. I looked around. Everything was blurry. I blinked a few times until it was clear, trying to understand what had happened.

Amongst the leaves, I noticed two red eyes watching me. The creature growled. Its grey face was half-lit by a moonlight strip that pierced through the trees - A wolf. I waved my hands frantically, trying to frighten it. He charged and bit down on my leg with an audible crunch. I screamed in pain as the bone snapped. Blood was gushing out. I swung my foot hard at his eye. He let go, whimpering for a moment, then turned back. His mouth opened, showing his blood-stained teeth. I dodged to the side when he charged again, using his momentum to send him sprawling. I watched him intensely, waiting for him to strike. He slowly pulled himself up, then began to pace, snarling. Then he stopped. I could see he was looking at something. I trailed his eyes. There, amongst the sloping leaves, a white ball. It glided towards me, an angelic figure. Terrified, the wolf whined and quickly hurried back into the shadows.

The angelic entity approached, her white eyes twinkling as she smiled warmly. "You're hurt, my child," she said; her serene countenance was a soothing balm.

I watched as she knelt beside my leg and gently touched it with her finger. The bones crackled back into place. I looked at her, puzzled, then delighted. 

"Are you a witch?" I asked hesitantly. 

The angel chuckled and held out her hand. 

 "Come, my child, let's get you home," she whispered. From her back rose two wings with white, silky feathers. 

And as I stood, she embraced me with them. They were soft. Majestic. I stared in awe.

The angel held me tightly and soared above the trees in a single motion.

When the morning came, I told my mother what had happened. My mother smiled. She wasn't angry. And when I asked her why, she said, “I saw the angel as a child. It is our family's guardian. She watches over us.”