you must let it find you

Deep, deep in Delumine’s frosted wood, sits a small bird upon a white tree limb. It sings and chirps, the only song in this most silent of places. The world here, with winter weaving through the land, is painted in white and greys and blacks alone. There is nothing that the frost does not claim. Even the skies are cloudy and misty, pale as pearl. The sun is hidden and the time of day unknown for all is so silver and white and utterly timeless.

The bird is the only sound. All else is silent, as if in slumber, or, just simply gone. It sings and it sings and through its dark, black eyes, it watches and it waits. It waits for her and upon its foot, tied with string, is a small tag. ‘Targwyn, come’ is written in crimson (is it blood?) and white (is it snow?).

When she comes, the little bird turns his head, flitting to the next tree. There he pauses, looking, inviting her to follow. He takes flight into the white sky and deep into the white shadows of the forest. He flies and is sure she follows. He flies and flies switching this way and that. The woodland watches him fly, until, he lands amidst a clearing. Carved into a tree, bold and black upon the hoarfrost bark, is the name Targwyn once more and Look.. Above it hangs the blackest thing within the forest. It ripples sometimes there, sometimes not. Magic drips invisible and sweet. It tinges the air like metal and shimmers in the cold as mirages might upon the desert.

Blink, and blink again, the little bird sings, for as the wind plays the black silk ripples and is there one moment and then gone the next: here and then gone, here and then gone. Crimson thread drips like blood down its edges and the bird flies up, up to the branch from which it hangs.

Jerkily it pecks, worrying the chain that tethers it to the gnarled tree limb. Suddenly, with a click that skitters over snow, the black cloak unclasps and tumbles, black and gone, black and invisible, down, down toward the frosty floor. It lands, gone, vanished at the foot of the tree. It lies there waiting, waiting for its new wearer to come and claim it. If she can find it….

The bird chirps, beckoning Targwyn forward.

**The invisibility cloak, black and visible on one side and invisible on the inside, has fallen to the foot of the tree, its inside lining is face up, rendering the cloak invisible. Targwyn is invited to come and find the cloak where it lies, awaiting her upon the frosty ground.**

@~~Targwyn~~ will find herself visiting Delumine's forest in the winter, when snow has freshly blanketed the ground. All will be still - except for a bird, that catches her attention. If she chooses to follow the bird, she will witness the following scene unfold - and should she choose to investigate further, the cloak of invisibility will her her's for the taking.

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~~This quest was written by the lovely Obsidian. <3~~

Enjoy!

RE: the forest knows where you are - Targwyn - 05-08-2019

She wanders through the winter, going nowhere and looking for nothing or anyone in particular. The wind is eerily calm as she meanders through the Viride Forest. Unlike what she thinks most forests should look like, this particular forest is burnt, charred, as if a fire has stormed through and killed everything. While things are trying to regrow, there is very little evergreen. The whole forest is shades of white, grey, and brown. The whole scene is intriguing to Targwyn and it makes her wonder what would have happened if she had been the creator of such destruction. However, she would not have left the trees standing. She would have burned the forest to ash, destroying the homes for the animals and the food sources for those that lived here.

But even as she walks through the forest in silence, her thoughts taking a path all their own, Targwyn does not miss the sound of a bird, singing sweet sickening melodies. It makes her eyes roll and her hair crawl. Such beauty should not be allowed in such a desolate place. And only the annoyance of the bird’s singing is what forces her to follow the sound. She wants to shut up the bird, to silence it for eternity. And so, she quietly alters her course, following the sound of the chirping bird. Eyes are forward as she watches, searching for the maker of the noise.

And when her eyes settle on the bird, she steps close enough so she can read the mysterious tag that is tied to the bird’s foot. And when she reads her own name upon the tag, she abandons the initial mission to kill the bird. Now she plans to follow it, to see why her name has appeared on a tag and written in red and white. It’s ironic, really, that the colors of her name are written in the colors upon her face. She supposes it was done that way on purpose.

And so, she follows the bird, quietly meandering through the charred forest, keeping her eyes on alert. She does not want to be taken by surprise if she is walking into an ambush. And when the bird finally stops, eyes look at the tree it has chosen to land on. In big black letters, her name is once again spelled out with further instructions. Look it tells her. Eyes look up at the tree and she sees something. It’s dark, fabric like. But something more sinister is calling her forward.

With her curiosity peaked, she steps closer to the tree, her eyes shifting from the bird to the fabric. There is an aura about the fabric, something that she cannot describe. She can only describe it as magic, or what she thinks magic might be.

Eyes look to the bird who has begun to peck the ties that hold the cloth to the tree. And when the bird finally breaks the ties, she watches as the fabric begins to fall towards the snow, covered earth. But as the cloth hits the snow-covered grown, it vanishes. Targwyn’s eyes grow wide, her disbelief clear as she wonders just how something blacker than night can disappear upon pristine white snow. Eyes look back to the bird, as if the beast might offer her some sort of explanation. All she gets is a beckoning for her to come forward once more.

She is cautious as she steps forward. Eyes watch as her hoof disappears beneath the snow. But as she comes upon where she thinks the cloth had fallen, her hoof no longer sinks into the snow. Something makes an impression in the snow, but Targwyn is unsure of what. Slowly, she uses her hoof to search the snow, pawing at it and looking for any sort of answer. And just when she was about to give up and go home, her hoof connects to something and as she draws her hoof back to her body, with it comes the fabric. As she peels it back, the black fabric is exposed.

Curious, Targwyn picks up the fabric with her teeth, inspecting the black silk on one side and seemingly nothing on the other. Tossing it over her back, the black silk is exposed at first. It is dark and compliments her well. But as she uses her teeth to toss the cloak on inside out, she is amazed to see that her body disappears beneath the fabric. Eyes grow wide and her smile pulls into a sinister grin. Slowly, she covers her entire body, watching as each inch of her begins to disappear.

Only when she is completely covered does Targwyn begin to walk away. The only proof that she was even there was her footprints in the snow.

@Random Events