This story is part of a series. It is recommended that you read it in order. You can find the first part in our archive here:
What had saved me from that terrible slime? What was I thinking? How was I still alive? My thoughts were now much clearer as I raced past the dark trees, terrified and disgusted with myself. But before I could properly consider these things, I am certain I heard a voice in the forest; a distant voice on the wind, something or someone telling me to “go left”, so naturally I darted right in fear of what the voice may lead me to. I had looked behind myself to see if I could see where the voice had come from as I darted right, and as a result I did not see it before I struck it. I ran directly into one of the thick trees, and I fell back, my head hitting the earth below, and I drifted into sleep, and into the world of dreams.
A conflagration. A spark of life, the fire of birth. A great burst of passionate flames which erupt from all around and then blackness. And then I open my eyes, and I find myself not in the vale, but in the forest and it is dark, it is a deep night, so deep that I would barely be able to see the world around me were it not for the bright, burning light surrounding me, emanating from me, and enveloping my nearest surrounds. I am at the centre of a clearing. I see many little wings around me. Are they butterflies? No, they have little legs and arms that look like mine. And they have tiny little faces too. But not bug faces, no, cute little faces like mine. There are many of them, all in a circle around me, buzzing around and weaving something together. It looks like some kind of silk. They are speaking to each other, I think, although the silence is back again as in my first dream, and all I hear is whispering on the wind, this time unintelligible. I stumble forth towards one of the little flying things, and it nears me and lands in my palm. It begins to whistle and I can hear it now. It is a beautiful tune, a calming tune, and all the others begin to join its melody. And soon the little things begin to dance all around me, a blaze of dazzling lights and twisting shadows as they whistle, and I join them, enchanted by the ethereal chorus. It seems to carry on forever, and ever, and ever, and ever, until I slowly begin to wake, and my eyes begin to open, and the day returns, and I am safe.