Illphated
The Guardian of the #Whispering Forest
A #ShortStory by #illphated and #unknown
Deep in the heart of the Whispering Forest, where the trees spoke in hushed murmurs and rivers shimmered with silver light, lived a deer unlike any other. His name was Eryndor, and he was no ordinary creature—his body bore the patterns of the land itself. Silhouettes of birds rested on his back, butterflies danced upon his legs, and the twisting vines of the ancient woods curled along his sides. His antlers stretched skyward, merging seamlessly into branches adorned with golden leaves that never withered.
Legends whispered that Eryndor was the #guardian of balance, a bridge between the realms of nature and spirit. The villagers who lived beyond the forest’s edge would sometimes glimpse him in the mist, his form shifting between reality and dream. Some believed he was a god, others a spirit woven from the land’s oldest magic.
One evening, as twilight painted the sky in hues of purple and gold, a young girl named Liora wandered into the forest. She carried a bundle of wildflowers, an offering for the lost soul of her mother, who had always spoken of the magic within the trees. As she walked, she felt the forest grow still—listening, waiting. Then, through the veil of mist, she saw him.
Eryndor stood upon a moss-covered ridge, watching her with eyes deep as the ancient woods themselves. The wind stirred his golden leaves, and the patterns upon his body shimmered, revealing the stories of countless seasons. He stepped forward, his hooves barely making a sound upon the earth, and lowered his head toward her.
Liora felt no fear. Instead, she reached out, her small fingers brushing the warm, living bark of his antlers. At that moment, the wind carried a whisper through the trees—a voice both familiar and eternal.
“She is always with you, child, as I am with this forest.”
Tears filled Liora’s eyes, but they were not of sorrow. She understood now. Her mother’s spirit, like all things in nature, had never truly left. It had merely become part of the whispers in the wind, the rustling of the leaves, and the quiet strength of the #forest.