The woman stands before me, out stretching her long, spindly fingers. No—not a woman…not a woman at all. But something like it. She was obviously female, but not woman—not mortal.

I shuddered as she floated closer to me. Fog puffed in front of me as I breathed—she was freezing. I took a step back, my fleeting crunching in the decaying leaves from her trail. I pulled my arms close to my chest, goosebumps rose on my skin and my hair prickled on my neck.

I new other creatures, such as the monster in front of me, lived and resided in these lands, but I had never seen them in person and I certainly had not been this close to one. My father would never let me out of the palace again if he knew who—what—I had encountered this deep in the woods.

My mouth went dry when she was floating only a mere few inches from me, gazing at me with her cloudy eyes. Her bony hand still outstretched, expectant, but patient. Her long, night-black hair billowed in waves past her waist and the white robe that covered her wrinkly, gray body blew softly in the silent breeze. Her face was perhaps the most disturbing. Her cheeks drooped, as if stuck against gravity and her lips left slightly parted to reveal knarled, rotting teeth. But her eyes haunted me most—the still, soulless orbs seemed to pick out the most wicked parts of my entire being.

I shivered, still backing away, but found it useless when my back hit the rough bark of a moss tree. The being stopped and it seemed that the whole world around me did the same. Not a single bird sang or fluttered, the leaves above me did not dance, and the wind ceased to move. All was quiet.

I took a breath in, but my heart skipped beats. “What—what do you want from me?” My voice came out shakier than I had intended, but there was no controlling the utter horror I felt inside me.

Was this some nightmare? Was I crossing over to the next life? Was I already dead and this is the angle that was sent to guide me?

She did not answer, so I asked a different question in hopes that she might find it worthy enough to answer. “Who are you?” I muttered. Silence. I narrowed my eyes, cautious of her quietude, “If I tell you who I am will you answer me?”

“I know exactly who you are…” I startled at her voice. It sounded like one and hundreds of voices at one time, as if more than one creature possessed her. She pointed at me, not accusingly, but confrontational, “I know what you are, Leora Clementine.”

My eyes widened and suddenly I felt like a child again. Vulnerable and alone with no one, but myself to find a way to survive. I watched as fog stirred behind the creature in front of me and then found her gaze once again, “What do you want from me?” I repeated, a but louder albeit. I refused to hunker into a confined ball of hopelessness and rot. I might as well get answers about my life now.

She snickered at my attempt bravery, “You think yourself worthy of answers, princess?” She rasped.

I frowned, “You know what I am thinking?” The fog behind her began to thicken and surround the two of us at our feet.

She grinned, exposing all of her teeth, “I know all things.” She croaked out. She offered her hand to me again, “Come, girl. I have much to show you. And you might get the answers you are looking for.” Her voice echoed in the silent wood.

The thick fog, which had now split down the middle to reveal an opening of darkness, beckoned me. I let out a shuttering breath, “About my life?”

Her smile grew wider and she shook her head—hair reflecting in the one ray of sunlight that managed to shine through the dense trees—“No princess,” she leaned closer, “about your death.”

My mouth parted and a thousand questions ran a muck in my head, but I said nothing. I only stood there, watching her peer at me with ethereal and unearthly grace. She awaited, her fingers signaled for me to take hold. I hesitated, unsure of what outcome going with her could bring me. I closed my eyes, contemplating, whether the answers I needed were worth the risks. But, my life was not as valuable as my countries.

I inhaled the cold air through my nostrils and exhaled. I had no choice, but to do this. I opened my eyes once again—she still stood there patiently. Swiftly, before I changed my mind, I grabbed her hand. Surprisingly, it was soft to the touch as she wrapped her cold fingers around mine.

Slowly, creepingly, she led me to the small opening of the fog and as if giving us permission, it widened and the darkness awakened.