Phantammeron Book One Page 15

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  Below the nighttime skies, the Gardens of Abrea had flourished. As gentle rains fell from passing storms, the forest of Phantaia returned to its former glory, bathed in the jeweled light of its magical dews. Yet the gloom of the twilight mist had returned to haunt Phantaia, unfaded and undying. Pouring out from the Doors of Evening, it wrapped its great cloud about the hill of the tree and pool. And so the three became one in purpose and design.

  No being had yet walked within this mystic twilit paradise. But upon an evening, the gray fog had returned once more, drifting out among the purple boughs and blossoms as a fiendish creature crept about its gloomy gardens. With her glowing eyes of jade, the witch Anissa now stalked about its silent corridors. She had returned to creep among the black roses that grew there, seeking that which was promised her long ago.

  With her long black nails she dug about the mound each evening, searching that which was thought lost for all time. She would then depart on the eve of each twilit dawn, only to return again in the cool of the evening when the dusky tree’s lights burned dimmest.

  Anissa had returned to the base of the hill in the depths of its eventide. She then found the Shadow’s remains buried within the Murgala where the roses grew thickest. With cautious hands she turned over the black soil with her nails, until at last she found the black ring of jet promised to her long ago. And so, with the finding of the ring had the Shadow’s deadly vow been fulfilled. Anissa then disappeared into the woods, never to return to Abrea.