It was supposed to be a simple trip to the valley, or so Alya thought. She came to the Valley of Vestige to collect Borealis herbs for the village, which on any other day would have been a one-day affair. However, this time, she has found herself wandering the valley for over a week, and not a single Borealis herb was to be found.

Growing desperate, she ranges further into the deep valley, going lower and lower, unaware of the geographical changes occurring the lower she went. The trees grew bent, the air still, and the surroundings silent. She treads slowly now through the thick vegetation, and at last, she finally sees the familiar glow.

She sets down near the herb of choice, eyeing it with glee. She takes out a white stone and begins to draw a circle around the herb. Each word corresponds to the different features of the earth. “Propagation”, “Sturdiness”, “Adaptation”, “Wild”, these are the words that she drew at the four key points.

Alya begins to mutter to herself “ Remember Alya, the herb can only be fully taken only by quelling its earthly nature. Draw, the circle, speak the words and draw the herb into the bag. So simple….very simple….we have done it a million times.”

Earth mother head my chant,

Through my bone and sinew,

I ask thee to bless the soil in which I procure,

Permit me this, o mother, as I reap the bounty from your bosom,

The circle then begins to absorb the glow from the herb, and as the herb begins to lose its luster, the earth begins to shift.

Alya continues to close her eyes as she begins the second part of the incantation.

One who seeks must give,

One who gives must redeem,

Your bounty shall be paid with this offering.

Alya then takes out a ginger-looking root, and switches it with the Borealis herb. She tugs at the herb, but the herb doesn’t budge. She begins to get flustered.

“Why isn’t this damn root letting go, I did as i was told, the incantation was said, and the circle did its job.” she mutters dejectedly.

“Where did I go wrong”

She falls backwards flat to the ground, looking up at the dark canopy of trees. The peaceful atmosphere is rather unnerving to her as she comes from a bustling village called Choram. The Borealis herb is a special plant as it allows herbalist to synthesize a mixture to cure various illnesses. Usually, they would send someone older to do the task, but recent times are hard, and a famine has made many of the older folk unable to work. Thus, Alya decided to get some Borealis for her parents who are now bed-ridden.

Crick!!

Crack!!

Suddenly, the herb begins to glow again. Alya looks at it with disdain.

“Ugh, what did I do wrong this time”. Just as she uttered those words.

“You did nothing wrong little girl”

Alya scurried behind a thick tree, looking frantically around for the source of the voice.

The voice continues to echo “The magic you used is correct, but your intent is too weak to pull out the Borealis”

“Who are you?” Alya shouted.

“Me? I am just a wandering spirit who guides the dead, leading those who had an urgent need in life to fullfill their last need”

“Then why are you coming to me, I am still very much alive”.

Laughter erupts all around the dark forest.

“My dear child, you have been dead for days, although it is common for those who had regrets to continue lingering the mortal plane until the end of days, which is where i come in.

She could only hear those words piece by piece as if time had slowed for her, dead…..for…..days….

She then begins to see the source of the voice, it is a grey imp who is sitting on a branch looking down at her.

“But...but...my p-parents, how would they be able to get better if i don’t go to them” she muttered as tears begin to roll down her eyes.

“Child, that was a concern for you, but as you are now, you cannot save them, but you may try to contact a mortal if you are lucky to help you.” the imp explained.

Alya just looked down to the ground, as she finally sees the true form of her body and why her magic didn’t work. Her hands were deathly white and transparent, and the circle she drew had disappeared.

“So what must I do, imp” she asks

“Children these days have no manners, I have a name, and I am called Feigr. Your fate is to join me in this valley as we wait for my master to come collect me”.

“Master?”

“Oh yes, he hungers, and when he comes, he shall see the dark yet again” said Feigr.