An icy wind howled through the trees, carrying with it a mixture of hail and rain. It slammed into the earth and the water, carving its way into soft fallen logs and turning the unprotesting soil into a muddy sea.
The circle met with determination, all the same. The circle met here every year. The skies could tear themselves apart, for all they cared.
A surprising sight, the sodden gloom was met with the resistance of a crackling fire, emanating its warmth through the rain. I defy you, it said. I am still here.
They sat around it, figures in their various hoods, shivering in the rain. The hoods were more for aesthetic than identity; after all, who would see them out here?
"Tell me what you have brought."
One by one, they produced their treasures: the scale of a python, willow bark, precious stones and feathers and all manner of things. The speaker seemed pleased, passing each one around as it came into their hands.
"Powerful things, for a powerful spell."
They all nodded quietly. "There is power in the forest, and in the forest it must stay. This is what we are sworn for."
They nodded again, "This is what we are sworn for, and what we will carry out. The wild places are dead to our kin, and we protect our kin from dying to them. Put your hands out to the fire. We will seal the forest once again."
They did so, a ritual performed so regularly it was subconscious. Each of them started quietly to chant, independent of one another. The speaker relaxed, readying themselves for a long night.
***
It was a lurch in their chest as the spell cut short, yanking at all their energy before disappearing completely. They all started, fully awake, looking around in alarm and confusion. The rain had stopped, leaving a heavy, full silence in the darkness. Shadows closed in, held at bay only by the dying light of the fire.
It was not often they feared the night, for their energies often rooted in it; but now, every one among them felt uneasy. Paranoia prickled the back of their necks, and the silence made it difficult to speak.
"What happened to the spell?" One of the youngest whispered huskily. "It ends at dawn."
"We... we will resume it." The speaker tried to sound confident, shaking their head. "Someone must have fallen asleep."
There was a relieved murmur, and the whisperings of people trying to defend themselves. I didn't. It wasn't me. The speaker smiled, channelling into the energy once again.
***
Lurch. Insistent. Sudden. The spell cut off once again, jerking them all from their meditation. The wind had stopped too, now, leaving a still and silent world. The fire was dying...
"Don't let it burn out!" The speaker snapped, jumping to their feet.
"But kin, we always let it burn out-?"
"Don't be stupid. Can't you sense there's something amiss tonight?"
"Calm your nerves, my kin. These forests always seem more alive when your eyes are the heaviest." One of the eldest spoke up, quiet and calm. "Don't let your paranoia break the spell."
The speaker sat back down unhappily, glancing over his shoulder before turning back to tap into the energy once again.
***
It was stronger this time.
They couldn't deny it, couldn't excuse it, couldn't understand it. There was something... cutting them off. Their uneasiness grew as they started to break the silence of ritual and speak among themselves in hushed, worried voices.
The speaker jumped to their feet, crying out as a voice filled their head. Noble, but futile. A cage will not be locked forever.
Then silence, and the fire burned out.
