Soul Searcher

The sky had forewarned her. In fact, it was the only reason she was taking such a late night stroll. She was searching. For what? She could not name. It was an emotion, a feeling, an enigmatic force that drove her on.

Tonight she was aware; tonight she’d find what she was looking for. She did not know how she knew, but she knew. The familiarity of the sensation was overwhelming, over-powering. She felt as though her movements were not of her own, as if she had no control. The young woman was cognizant of her own destination. The hidden path she took now was but a subconscious etch in her mind, a half-formed picture. A map of sorts to guide her on her way.

Her fate she was aware was yet to be determined. She knew not where she was headed, but she knew she was headed home. The youthful maiden followed the invisible path deeper and deeper into the hilly regions of the temporary residence where she had up ‘til then been staying. Before too long she was lost, she did not recognize the surrounding landscapes. Yet, as the knowledge of this brushed the corners of her mind, she disregarded it. Brushing it off as carelessly as one would brush off a piece of lint from a suit. And thus she trudged on deeper and deeper into the forest. Silently the mist began to creep up on her, encasing her, enveloping her in a silvery cloak.

Even through the thick fog she moved, silently as her bare feet brushed the soft damp pieces of grass. Her shifts made only the slightest rustle as her movements picked up speed, her pace quickened to jog then; a run.

She was near! She could feel it! She was almost home! As she ran faster and faster, bushes and branches materialized as if out of the mist itself and tore at her. Stumbling many times, tears ran down her face. But, she must not give up! She must persevere! Her gown was torn, her arms and legs bruised and scratched. Her feet bled woefully. But yet she got up each time and she persisted, she wanted to be home, she needed to be home.

Before long, the haze dissolved into the air. The dawn’s singing light was crisp and clean. The lost girl slowly pulled herself onto her knees, wrapping her arms around herself, she sobbed. Her tears mingled with all the dirt and grit from the night before. Sitting back, she pulled her knees close and wrapped her arms around them and wept. She was lost, her way home forgotten and confused.

So embraced by her own sadness she did not hear the slight fluttering of wings. Nor did she lift her head to see the beautiful swan before her. His graceful neck arched proudly; his lovely white feathers reflected the golden sunlight, generously creating a mystical halo. The swan seemed to come to indecision as it gently reached out one glorious wing and brushed the mourning girl’s arm. Slowly, uncertainly the young woman looked up. Her joy spread across her face, the warmth throughout her body. She beamed brightly to the creature.

“Mine love thou hast cometh for me,” she gasped breathlessly.

The swan nodded and gently dislodged a small vile hidden within the rich selection of his wing feathers. Nodding, understanding, the youthful woman eagerly took up the bottle and drank willingly from it….

Transformation complete, the two Swan Folk took off to the sky a shining beacon of hope to all who knew, know, feel and felt true love.