The woods the woods the woods the woods.

Gold and blue, blue and gold.

Blue and gold and bright and sharp.

Bright and sharp and painful burning striking ripping slashing  killing bleeding death.

My senses flood with power, Magic bleeding into my lifeblood and energy, causing my innate power to expand tenfold, flooding my senses. I gasp and double over as the initial flood recedes. It is still there, ready to be put to use, but under control, for now.  The flood could come rushing out, killing me and anyone around me, at any moment, but it is controlled, for now. 

I still grip the gilded leaf, but the gold has taken on a tinge of rose, the sapphires now glitter with the reflection of the abyss, nebulas glitter among silver moons and shining stars, new constellations are born and old suns die. A beautiful balance. The poltergeist is gone, but a glimmer of light reflects them in the leaf. My leaf. It's mine it's mine it's mine it's mine and never Hers.

Anyway, the glimmer reveals the poltergeist in the leaf. Interesting. Maybe it wanted a change of pace and was tired of haunting me. How fun. Of course, I will have to hide the leaf from Her.  I don't get anything nice unless it benefits Her. I used to have a cat, a beautiful beast, and She took him. She took my familiar! I found him, days later, rotting in the forest, maggots crawling through his fur, burrowing through his flesh. Gore caked his coat, his ribs were visible in the open, rotting, cavity of his chest. It looked like She tore his heart out, shattering his bones. All to spite me.

I once heard a rumor that She takes hearts, and eats them, or stores them, or uses them for some other infernal purpose. I am inclined to believe this rumor. I will help, the god of the harvest that came to me. I will help the good side of the paranormal. If She's against them, then I'm for them.  One day I will dance the dance of the ghosts, reunited with Florinfang once more. When I do, I hope it will be under the watch of ɘɈɈɒ⅃ ɘɔiqƧ niʞqmυԳ and not Her. I do not know what She is, and do not wish to, but I know, one day, I will inevitably find out.

I make my way to the festival noting that by the sun's position, it appears to be the next day. I don't think I was missed. I don't think I would be missed. I really hope I wasn't missed. Always the festival, always circling back to the festival. I am tired of it, but what can I do?

I wasn't missed.