Chapter 228: Day 227

Day 227,

I have some time alone to write, so it seems as good a time as any to put to paper the events of the last two nights.

As I had begun to recount earlier, two nights ago now feeling energized from my healing and unable to sleep I returned to the upper pool for another soak.  After a short time, the nature sprite joined me, seeming to find the hot spring as relaxing as I did.  Having grown used to the sprite’s presence once more with the nights of it accompanying me sitting watch and the days of it walking along the road with me, I was not nearly as alarmed by its presence as I would have been a month ago.  In truth, I was fascinated.  I don’t think I’d ever seen it so at rest save perhaps under the archway of Siren Overlook.

The appearance of other sprites soon after put me rather more on edge.

They emerged from the shadows at the shifting edges of the water-refracted crystal-light with hardly a shuffling of undergrowth.  Six of them, one after the other over the course of a minute or two.  When the first one appeared I froze, mind flashing back to that night in the the incident.  When it slipped into the water the not-purring next to me cut off and “my” nature sprite opened its eyes.

This was my first time seeing other nature sprites beyond glowing eyes in the dark, but there was no mistaking what they were.  They all appeared to be composed of plant matter rather than flesh and all roughly followed the humanoid body plan of one head, two arms, two legs, but beyond that they varied immensely.  

“My” nature sprite, on the rare occasions that it rears up to its full height, stands head and shoulders above even Maiko; lean for its height, long fingered, skin of bark, face nearly human but too long and narrow, ending in a squared nose that would bring to mind a deer when paired with the antlers were it not for the sharp teeth.  Most of the others shared the barkskin, save for one that brought to mind a flower rather than a tree (green flesh, layered leaves and petals) and one so covered in fur-like moss it was impossible to tell what lay beneath (if indeed there was anything at all).  The smallest was shorter than Cass, creating barely a ripple as it took its seat across from me.  The largest was as tall as “mine” and twice as wide.  Last to arrive, it displaced the water over the sides and gushing over the waterfall as its rotund form trundled into the spring.  

This at last was enough to snap me from my frozen terror as I scrambled to grab and lift this journal and my clothes to save them from being soaked.  This elicited a round of vocalizations from the gathered sprites.  Amusement or apology I know not.  Afraid to actually move too far from where I already was, I quickly wrapped my clothes around my journal and tossed the bundle a short distance away.  Still within the light but hopefully out of splash radius.

When I turned back to my newfound spa-mates I realized that one had adjusted its seat to be closer to me.  Whether this was a matter of intentionally getting closer or spreading out now that a new (and large) guest had arrived I’m not sure, but “my” sprite responded by grabbing my shoulders, pulling me over to its side, and hissing at the other sprites.  This elicited another round of vocalizations and then all returned to calmly soaking in the warm waters.

“My” sprite loosened its grip but kept one arm around me for the rest of the night.  Over the next several minutes, I too finally managed to force myself to relax once more.  It’s strange, while on a deep level I still fear this being that haunts me, when there is aught else of danger its presence becomes comforting and I don’t fear anything else (or at least, I fear less).  I may be a plaything to it, but I’m its plaything.

With it now apparent that I was in no immediate danger, I found curiosity getting the better of me once more and I took the opportunity to more closely examine the other sprites now that they were all gathered in the light.  Eerie underlighting constantly shifting with the surface of the pool, but lighting nonetheless.  Some were curvier in silhouette than others, but I suspect it would be inaccurate to label any of them as feminine or masculine, male or female.  I don’t think human ideas of gender or sex truly apply to these entities.  By that token, the faces, where they were human-like, were relatively androgynous, made moreso by the animal-suggesting distortions.  A vulpine pointedness on one, a porcine roundness on another.  Never truly animal features, but easy for an imaginative mind to jump to associations.  None had the antlers “mine” had, although one had a pair of curving horns, and the flower-like one had structures resembling antennae.  I tried not to think too hard about the purpose similar structures serve in actual flowers.

It occurs to me I could fill pages going on like this, and did last night.  I’ll save further in-depth physical descriptions for the archival research notebook.  For now, I’ll only add that they did all have a single feature in common beyond their plant-like composition: their eyes.  Glowing orbs that leave spots burned into your retinas if you meet their gaze yet paradoxically cast little, if any light on their faces or surroundings.

The night went on in reasonable calm from there.  There were more vocalizations between the sprites here and there.  They obviously communicate, but it’s hard to say how much might actually be language as it mostly sounded like short noises in isolation.  A grunt, a laugh, a trill, a sigh, a hum.  Perhaps they have some other means of communication that I’m blind and deaf to and the noises are just expressions of emotion or exclamation?

Speaking of vocalizations, I soon began to suspect that the lower pool was occupied as well, but from my vantage point I wasn’t able to get a good look until the next night.

Eventually, I finally started to tire.  Somewhere in the back of my mind I was registering that I’d been in the pool longer than it was healthy to remain in water that warm but I was feeling none of the effects of overheating.  Maybe the healing properties cancel that out to a degree? (Unintentional pun but I’m leaving it.)  But as I said, I grew sleepy.  The warmth of the pool, the sound of the rain frogs, the arm around me whose owner I could almost forget.  Somewhere I nodded off.  I don’t know for how long, but I awoke with a start on the edge of the pool rather than in it, still damp.

The sprites were all gone, even “mine.”  Unsure what else to do, I dried myself, dressed, returned to camp, slipped into my bedroll as quietly as I could, and went to sleep until morning.

It wasn’t until last night that I was able to convince myself that the whole thing wasn’t just a dream.

As my journal entry last night indicated, when everyone else went down for bed I returned to the spring and wrote until the sprites appeared again.  Once more they quietly stepped from the darkness of the surrounding jungle and made their ways to the pools, both upper and lower.  I soon felt a hand on my shoulder, grip just heavy and tight enough to be uncomfortable.  “My” sprite, standing behind me, hunched over like a crone as usual.

I started, calmed when I recognized the hand’s owner, acknowledged its presence, and the grip loosened.

I had brought my research notebook with me as well that night.  I intended to take notes on all of them.  Sketch them as well as I could.  Maybe even attempt to talk to one.

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My attitude that night could best be described as “curiosity getting the better of fear and self-preservation.”  In hindsight, that was a very outsider thing to do and I still can’t believe I did something so potentially stupidly dangerous.  Especially considering the incident.

But, that night I’d pushed far from my mind.  This night I attempted to communicate my plans to “my” sprite as best I could.  Even tried drawing it and showing it.

It found this greatly amusing.

I took that as a good sign.

And so I spent most of the rest of the night walking around the pools, examining the sprites, making notes about their physical descriptions and behaviors, and attempting sketches.  Some watched me, some ignored me.  “My sprite” loomed behind me the entire time, standing up straighter if any took what I guess was too great an interest in me.

Still, those that seemed interested I spoke to, explaining what I was doing, and showing my sketches.  For most of them they seemed either intrigued or amused.  None spoke back to me though.  

Not all were so friendly.  One snapped at me upon seeing what I was doing.  Literally, snapping at me with its teeth.  This instigated a hissing and growling match between it and “my” sprite who once again pulled me close and leaned forward over my head to snap back.

Another one “my” sprite grabbed my shoulder and steered me away from as soon as I began to move toward it.  I try not to imagine what that might have been about.

In total, there were fourteen nature sprites there, counting mine.  Seven in the lower pool, six in the upper.  Satisfied that I had proof to prove to myself in the morning I hadn’t dreamt all this, and beginning to tire once more, I let “my” sprite bring me along as it claimed its spot in the upper pool.  It was a slightly different crowd this time.  The big one and the flowery one were still there though.  Other faces were new.

From there the night proceeded much like the one before, save that I dozed off sooner.  Once more I woke up alone and snuck went quietly back to camp.

I still haven’t told the others about any of this.  At first it was because I wasn’t sure if it was real.  Now it’s because I worry that they (Cass in particular) will want to see for themselves and might end up attracting attention and also being haunted.  While that has its moments of silver lining, it’s ultimately not something I would wish on anyone.  (Please don’t take too much offense at that if you’re invisibly reading over my shoulder again.)

I’ll go one more time tonight and decide in the morning.

 

After my lengthy writing session this morning, today’s been fairly uneventful.  Just more going back and forth between soaking in the spring and exercising.  I still might not be totally at one hundred percent by the time we leave this island, but I’ll be closer to it and have more hope of actually reaching it again than I have in months.

Speaking of which, judging by the moon we’ve agreed that tomorrow will be our last day here.  The next day we’ll set out for Iole’s.

I’ll be returning to the spring again tonight.  Going to leave this journal in camp but bring the notebook with me again.  If the sprites are back again tonight and it all goes well, I’ll tell the others in the morning.

It makes me wonder though, does this one small island host this many sprites, or do they travel here nightly from afar, unbound by distance the way we are?

Also, do they come here because of the spring’s healing properties, or does it have healing properties because they come here?  There are a number of phenomena in this world that I can imagine potential non-magical explanations for (most of which predicate on this whole environment being artificially constructed with mind-bogglingly advanced science and engineering) - even the healing spring (underground heating devices and dissolved medicinals?) and the shades (nanomachine swarms?) - but with the sprites I have nothing and whatever they touch becomes suspect as well.

 

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