Member-only story
The Wildwood Sings at Sunset
The Summer Court welcomes you to the revelry.
Oh, did you wander here from the mouth of the forest? You must have taken a wrong turn at the row of heartwood trees. Did you hear the song on the wind and follow it here?
You’d best go. Mortals don’t fare well after dusk. See the sun dipping behind the trees? You should take that path right there — and don’t look back. You’d be a fool if you tried to stay.
But, yes, there are things wilder here than you could possibly even dream. The fruit is never out of season. And the music will make you dance with no care for the outside world at all. It can be quite fun, the very stuff of freedom made manifest.
I shouldn’t let you go any further. It wouldn’t be right. You don’t know where you’ll end up by morning’s first break of dawn.
Here, take my hand. I have a soft spot for the mortals. You always let your curiosity get the best of you.
Watch your step. The roots and vines like to play.
See that clearing up ahead? That’s where the summer queen will sit. Her throne was made from a tree born thousands of years ago. Sometimes I think it’s the only thing that has survived from the days of old into this modern realm.
