Previously in Chapter 5: Dream or Reality?
Elswyth is jolted awake by Sarah, a spirited pixie who reveals herself as Elswyth's long-awaited spirit guide. As Sarah warns of the dangers Elswyth’s awakening powers have drawn, the once-familiar station wagon, Samwise, transforms into a majestic wolfhound, ready to carry her to safety. With a final glance at her room, Elswyth gathers her courage and steps through a mystical doorway into an ancient, enchanted forest, leaving the ordinary world behind.
“Welcome home, a’mun sul.” The soft voice pierced through my haze, and I blinked, disoriented, at the unfamiliar world around me. Towering trees stretched overhead, their thick branches intertwining into a canopy so dense it seemed to cradle the very sky. Shafts of golden sunlight pierced through in places, illuminating patches of vibrant green where ferns and moss clung to the roots, as if seeking the earth’s hidden warmth. The scent of damp soil mingled with the sweetness of wildflowers, filling my senses, while the rustle of unseen creatures echoed softly from the shadows. The air itself felt alive, humming with an ancient, quiet energy, as though the forest was aware of my presence.
“Home?” I echoed, my voice barely more than a whisper. “What do you mean, home?”
I turned, startled, my breath catching in my throat. She was there, perched effortlessly atop the giant wolfhound—Samwise, though now he was something far more regal. His brindle coat, rich with streaks of brown and black, shimmered in the dappled light, and his enormous head dipped slightly, a gesture of greeting. He was a creature out of legend, his size and presence awe-inspiring.
“This is the Old World,” she said, her smile brimming with quiet knowing. “It exists alongside the reality you’ve always known, but it’s far older. And the beings here,” she paused, her eyes glinting with a touch of mischief, “are much more in tune with the universe than the humans of your world.”
Despite the breathtaking beauty of the forest, a thread of unease coiled within me. It all felt too perfect, too vivid, as if plucked from the pages of a forgotten fairytale. None of this could be real.
She giggled, her tiny legs swinging playfully from Samwise’s back, her small feet barely reaching his sides. “I know this is a lot to take in. But we can’t linger here for long. This is the Old Growth. Not much is tame here, and the ancient ones don’t take kindly to newcomers.” She leaned forward conspiratorially. “They love to cause trouble for young folk. Come, I’ll take you to the glen. We’ll see if we can send word to your guardians. I’ve still got a thing or two to say to them.”
Sarah sat up straighter and gestured for me to join her atop Samwise. I hesitated, glancing between her and the massive wolfhound. As if sensing my unease, he lowered himself onto his belly, waiting patiently. I’d never ridden anything in my life, let alone a creature so grand. Swallowing my nerves, I grasped the saddle’s edge and swung my leg over, settling myself gingerly on his broad back.
The moment I found my balance, Samwise rose gracefully to his feet, surprising me with his sheer strength. I instinctively reached for the reins draped across his shoulders, my fingers tightening around them. Sarah grinned down at me from her perch atop his head. “Now we’re cookin’!” she chirped, leaning forward to whisper something into his ear. At her words, Samwise’s head dipped ever so slightly, and without warning, he surged forward, bounding into the depths of the forest.
Everything around me blurred into shades of green as Samwise wove skillfully through the ancient woods, dipping and dodging with surprising grace. I leaned forward instinctively, my knuckles turning white as I clutched the reins. Yet, to my amazement, the ride was smooth, nothing like the jarring gallop I had anticipated. Up ahead, Sarah held onto his ears, occasionally leaning over to whisper something softly to him.
The dense forest gradually began to thin, golden sunlight filtering through in warm, scattered patches. In the distance, a bridge appeared, crafted from twisted tree trunks and branches that seemed to grow together, as though the trees themselves had bent to create a path over a gently babbling brook. Samwise led us down into the valley, his stride steady as he carried us toward the bridge.
As we neared the bridge, my suspicions were confirmed. It wasn’t a single tree, but rather four towering giants—two on each side—whose thick, gnarled trunks twisted and wove together. Their branches, heavy with moss and cloaked in textured bark, interlocked above us, forming a graceful archway that blended seamlessly with the surrounding forest. The trunks stretched across the brook, their roots anchored firmly in the earth, while thick limbs entwined overhead, creating a canopy that filtered the sunlight into soft, dappled patterns along the path. Moss clung to the wood, and delicate vines trailed down from the branches, swaying gently as though in welcome.
“Bow and thank them for passage, a’mun sul,” Sarah instructed over her shoulder, her tone light but firm, like a mother reminding a child to say thank you.
I blinked at her, momentarily puzzled, but as the words sank in, understanding followed. I pressed my hands to Samwise’s back and bowed as deeply as I could. “Thank you for allowing us passage, ancient ones,” I murmured, feeling the weight of my words even as I stumbled over them, hoping they would be received.
A gentle warmth blossomed at my forehead, spreading through me like sunlight melting the last traces of winter chill. My heart swelled, filling with a joy so pure it felt as though I were floating, my face breaking into a wide, unguarded smile.
“Well done!” Sarah beamed at me, her voice brimming with approval. “They’re celebrating your return home. Word will spread quickly now to the glen. They’ll be expecting us, so we’d best be on our way.”
Without needing any encouragement, Samwise set off, his massive paws moving soundlessly over the living bridge. As we crossed, tendrils of vine dipped from the canopy above, brushing gently against my cheeks, as if in a silent greeting. Each touch felt alive—warm, almost electric—like the forest itself was reaching out to welcome me back.
It was strange, yet oddly comforting, as though the Old World recognized me in some way I didn’t yet understand. I closed my eyes for a moment, allowing the scents and sensations to wash over me. The richness of damp earth, the sweetness of hidden blossoms, and the rustling melody of leaves created a symphony that felt like it was playing just for us. Each step over the bridge brought a quiet peace, calming the thrill of anticipation humming in my chest.
The final steps across the bridge were as smooth and gentle as the first, each one grounding me more firmly in this place that felt both foreign and achingly familiar. The gentle sway of Samwise’s stride soothed my mind, and I leaned forward slightly, resting a hand on his warm, brindled fur. It was like feeling the pulse of the forest beneath my fingertips, steady and ancient.
As we reached the other side, the trees opened just a little, letting in beams of soft sunlight that cast dappled patterns along the path. I couldn’t help but feel as though invisible eyes watched from the shadows, curious but kind, as if the very trees and earth here had waited patiently for my return.
The moment Samwise’s paws touched solid ground, he surged forward, his stride lengthening into a powerful gallop that sent a rush of wind whipping past us. The rolling path ahead curved gently, flanked by towering trees whose branches arched overhead like guardians lining a procession. I held tight to the reins, my heart pounding with excitement that matched Samwise’s unrestrained energy.
“Just around that bend up there is the entrance to the glen,” Sarah called over her shoulder, pointing ahead. Her voice held a note of delight, as though she, too, anticipated this arrival. “Don’t be surprised if they all come out to see you.”
They? A flutter of questions stirred in my mind. Who’s ‘they’? My guardians, maybe? But who are they, really? I wanted to ask, but the words tangled inside me, my mind too alive with curiosity and the strange familiarity of this world.
Sarah’s laughter rang out, bright and mischievous as she clung to Samwise’s ears. “You’ll see soon enough, a’mun sul! Just enjoy the ride!”
Just around the bend now. My pulse quickened, each beat echoing in my chest as we approached, the thrill of the unknown both exhilarating and terrifying. I tightened my hold on Samwise’s reins, feeling the warmth of his fur beneath my fingers, as if he, too, was readying himself.
Then, as we rounded the bend, I saw it—a wall of towering, ancient trees, their trunks twisted and knotted together in a formidable barrier. Each gnarled root and branch interlocked with the next, forming an impenetrable line that stretched high above us, so thick and entwined that not a single ray of light pierced through. It was as if the trees themselves guarded whatever lay beyond, allowing nothing but shadows to slip through their fortress-like embrace.
I held my breath, the air heavy with anticipation, wondering what kind of place required such protection—and what it might reveal to me.
Samwise skidded to a halt before the towering barrier, his massive paws kicking up a soft spray of earth. He stood still, his head lifted, ears pricked forward as he regarded the dense wall of twisted trees with a quiet reverence. Even he seemed to sense the weight of what lay beyond, his usual confidence softened into something close to awe.
For a breath, we stood in silence, the only sound the faint rustle of leaves high above. The trees loomed like silent sentinels, their twisted branches forming dark, intricate patterns that seemed almost deliberate, as if woven together by some invisible hand. Yet unlike the bridge, there was no feeling of welcome here, no warmth or recognition—just an impenetrable stillness, as though the wall of trees neither noticed nor cared for our presence.
A shiver ran down my spine, the weight of the unknown pressing heavily around us.
“This is where I leave you for now!” Sarah announced, her voice brimming with excitement. “Knock thrice to wake him. Speak ‘friend’ to test your worth.” She paused, her gaze softening as she caught the flash of panic in my eyes. “Don’t worry! Look within yourself, a’mun sul. This is your destiny. It’s woven into the very fabric of your soul.”
Before I could respond, she gave me a reassuring nod, then sprang off Samwise’s head with effortless grace. The moment her feet touched the ground, she was engulfed in a shimmering veil of light, twinkling like a handful of stars scattered into the shadows. In the next heartbeat, she was gone, leaving only a faint glimmer lingering in the air where she had stood.
“Wait! What do you mean, ‘speak friend’? What am I knocking on? Hey! Sarah!” My voice echoed faintly, swallowed up by the dense, silent forest. The response was absolute quiet—almost pointed in its silence. I stood there, feeling the weight of uncertainty settling heavily on my shoulders.
Beside me, Samwise let out a long, dramatic sigh and sank onto his haunches, his eyes fixed on the wall of trees as if he, too, was unimpressed by Sarah’s disappearing act.
“I know, buddy,” I murmured, reaching over to pat his side. “She could’ve at least given us a hint.” My hand drifted through his wiry coat, fingers tracing the texture absently as my gaze scanned the wall of trees before us, searching for any sign of an entrance—a door, a crack, even the faintest seam.
But the barrier remained as tightly woven and unyielding as ever, every branch and root knitted together in a way that looked completely impenetrable. The more I looked, the more I doubted if there was any way in at all.
“Well, I might as well try knocking anywhere,” I muttered, more to steady my nerves than anything else. Taking a deep breath, I walked up to the wall of trees and lifted my hand, hesitating for a heartbeat before rapping three times on one of the gnarled trunks.
The sound of my knocks rang out, reverberating like the echo of a great door knocker against an ancient castle gate. The vibrations traveled along the trunks, making the branches above shiver slightly. I gasped and stumbled back, pressing against Samwise, who tilted his head curiously, ears pricked as we both waited with bated breath.
Then, with a faint creak, a small hatch appeared amid the twisted roots and swung open. Out poked the face of a little old man, his pointed red hat slumped to one side, nearly covering one eye, and his long, gnarled beard flowed down, swaying as he peered around. Adjusting a pair of silver spectacles on his button nose, he fixed his gaze on us.
“Yes?” he barked, his voice raspy and haughty, laced with the distinct annoyance of someone roused from a peaceful nap. “What is it? Who knocks thrice to wake me from my slumber?” He narrowed his eyes, squinting down at us as though struggling to make sense of what he was seeing.
I glanced at Samwise, biting back a nervous laugh, both of us equally taken aback by this unexpected gatekeeper.
“I was led here by my spirit guide. She said I had to wake you and… and speak ‘friend’ for a test?” My voice shook, betraying my uncertainty. What am I supposed to even say? I don’t even know why I’m here.
The little man raised an eyebrow, his annoyance deepening as he leaned his face on one hand, propped on the tiny sill of the hatch. “Friend, huh?” He scoffed, his other hand flicking dismissively. “And what would a silly human like you know about true friendship? Your lives are brief flickers, and you’re all too wrapped up in yourselves to ever form a true bond.” His gaze hardened, a smirk twisting his mouth. “Humans flit through the world, making promises you forget, abandoning those who need you. You’ve no friend here. Now be gone!”
He grasped the hatch, ready to slam it shut, but I lurched forward, shouting, “No! Wait!” My words tumbled out before I had a chance to second-guess them. Hell with it. She told me what I am. I might as well go with it.
Drawing in a shaky breath, I straightened. “I am a’mun sul! Friend to the Old World! I’ve come to find my guardians. Please, friend, allow me to enter the glen.”
The little man’s eyes narrowed, his gaze sharp and piercing, as if he were looking beyond my words and into something deeper. A strange sensation pulsed at the center of my forehead under his scrutiny, warm and insistent. Instinctively, I reached up, fingers brushing the spot, and the moment I touched it, a light blossomed around me, soft and golden, like the first glow of dawn breaking through mist.
A wave of warmth flooded my body, embracing me in a sense of belonging I hadn’t expected. Tiny sparkles of light began to swirl around me, dancing through the air like dust caught in sunlight, drifting slowly to the forest floor like a gentle, shimmering snowfall.
The little man’s eyes went wide, his mouth parting in astonishment as he watched, momentarily speechless. The skepticism in his gaze softened, replaced by something almost like recognition—or perhaps reverence.
Suddenly, he vanished, the hatch slamming shut behind him with such finality that it left no seam or mark, as if it had never existed at all. For a few moments, an unsettling silence settled over the forest. I stood there, frozen, fear creeping in as doubt churned within me. Had I failed? Had I somehow misread what I was meant to do?
But then, a loud crash sounded from behind the wall, followed by a clattering racket echoing through the trees. His raspy voice broke out in a string of irritated muttering, spitting words in a language that was strange and jagged, each syllable punctuated with exasperation.
Then came the sound of keys clinking together, a low scrape of metal on metal, and the unmistakable turn of a lock. I held my breath, my pulse quickening as I heard a gentle click, and a faint outline of a large double doorway appeared in the wall of trees before us, traced in a soft, silvery glow. With a second, deeper click, the doors began to creak open, inching forward as though moved by invisible hands.
The thick branches parted, and a cool, earthy breeze drifted through, carrying with it the scent of moss and something older, something that spoke of secrets well kept.
The man’s silhouette filled the center of the opened doors, his movements brusque as he kicked something off his leg with an annoyed grunt. He stomped toward me, and as he drew closer, I realized he barely reached my midsection. He stopped a few paces away, crossing his arms over his chest, tapping one foot as his gaze swept over me from head to toe.
“Well, well, well,” he muttered, eyes narrowing. “So Sarah’s charge is the a’mun sul, huh? I told that girl she needed to take her responsibilities more seriously. Tsk, tsk, tsk.” He shook his head, adjusting his spectacles with a huff before his gaze settled back on me, sharp and unrelenting.
“What do they call you, then, a’mun sul?” His eyes didn’t waver as he studied me intently.
“Me?” I asked, pointing to myself, a bit startled. “Oh, I’m Elswyth. It’s… well, it’s an old family name, but you can just call me El if that’s easier—” I caught myself mid-ramble, feeling my cheeks warm as I trailed off under his penetrating stare.
“Mmm, an old name from an old family,” he murmured, nodding in acknowledgment, as though he knew far more of my origins than I did myself.
“I am Mimble, Guardian of the Sauhn at’Gul,” he announced, his tone swelling with pride. “The great gate to the safe haven of the People of Old.” His eyes softened, and for a moment, I thought I saw a glint of warmth beneath his gruff exterior. “You have spoken, young one, and bared your soul. Pure it is, a’mun sul. Your people welcome you home.”
With that, he offered a small, respectful bow, one hand extending toward the open gateway. He stepped aside, making way, and I felt the weight of his words settle over me, mingling with the thrill of finally stepping into this hidden world that had somehow always been a part of me.
I hesitated before stepping forward, uncertain and a little overwhelmed. But as I looked at the little gnome before me, an unexpected urge swelled within me. I bowed deeply. “It is an honor to stand before the Guardian of the Gate, sir. I may be young and know nothing of the Old World, but I recognize great wisdom when I see it.”
A soft gasp escaped him, and when I looked up, his hand was pressed to his chest in genuine surprise. His expression softened, and for a moment, he seemed almost… touched. “You carry your family name well. Honor and grace,” he murmured, a rare warmth in his voice. “Your guardians—and that scamp of a spirit guide—are surely awaiting your arrival, a’mun sul.”
He straightened, regaining his usual composure, though his gaze lingered on me with something like pride. “The honor is mine,” he added with a slight bow of his head, “but I shan’t keep you from your journey any longer. Off you go, now.”
With a brisk wave of his hand, he ushered me toward the gate, the weight of his words still resonating within me as I stepped forward, ready to enter the world that awaited beyond.
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Samwise transforming from car to wolfhound was pretty neat!
With his reactions, I wonder if he was always alive, or had gain sentience upon transformation!