You think we come from some fairy story?
You think we trip down the pages, as if they were steps from one of your fantasy castles? I assure you, we are there. But that is not where we come from.
But the stories! you say. You think we are the stories? Oh, of course, we are in your stories. But that is not where we come from.
Are we the stuff of legend? You think we are elements of your myths. We are in your myths and legends. But that is not where we come from.
It is easy to blur the borders: we are in a forest made of books, after all. A forest made of stories, legends, myths.
You will find us in the shallow forest, to be sure. On the edges, in the stories, in the tales handed down from your grandma and her grandma before her; you will find us there. But that is not where we come from.
But what happens in the deeper forest, beyond your simple paths, the house too small to live in but perfectly decorated with the plates set out for tea? What happens when you go so far in that stories begin to tell themselves? Well, we say. Well, then—you are closer.
And what’s that behind you? Surely it’s only a shadow. Light filtering through cut paper, light bleeding out from twinkle trees, obscured by a solid object. You tell yourself that’s what shadow is. That’s what shadows do. Isn’t it?
You think we are tragic creatures? You think we are sad? No, no: we are watching. We are waiting. We are thinking.
We are waiting for those words that echo all throughout the forest, all throughout legend and myth and fairy tale.
Oh! Here they are. Those words that bring our souls out into the moonlight, that let us give you just enough of us to want more, and more always.
Listen: in the stillness of the snow, the words whisper from every tree, every book, every bough, every light:
Once upon a time.
That is where you will find us.
And here is the secret. Listen: I will only tell it once. You may revisit it in a hundred stories, but this is the only time you will hear it from my, from our, lips.
There is no difference between the copse of trees at the bottom of your garden and the ancient forests you wander when you can. It is only that in those ancient forests we rise wilder, and you can take a journey on foot to a place where you can believe in us.
There is no difference between the oldest story ever told and the story that springs into your mind now, fully formed. They are the same, and we are in both of them.
All forests are one forest. All legends are one legend. Each forest is new. Each story is new.
But I did not tell you where we come from, you will say. I have been telling you all along. We come from the breath between the lifting of the pen and the word on the paper. We come from the shoot of green that struggles up through the snow. We come from the deepest forest, the oldest story, and we are as present in the three trees in the schoolyard and the library book as we are, as we ever were, there.
Don’t fight it. Come in. I have more stories to tell you. So many more.
Head: LAQ, Noelle Bento Mesh Head
Skin: Lumae, Elvi (All current skin lines are in the Lumae Main Store)
Hair: Analog Dog (natch), Sassafras
Eyes: ADD Andel, The Three Forest Eyes
Gown: Senzafine, Emmeline Gown (Available now at We Love Roleplay)
Necklace and Earrings: Empyrean Forge, Fortuna
Circlet: A&A, Winter’s Malice Circlet
Antlers: Attic, Long Antler White
Nails: Cazimi, Winter Ombre Nails
Location: Awenia, The Book Forest
There are so many things in the book forest that I cannot begin to list them all. But Awenia is open to the public throughout the month of December: Please come and experience it for yourself!