Nabal stood at the edge of the night forest. The glow bugs flashed, and the crickets chirped. A cool breeze ran its fingers through the treetops. The night was cool and still in front of him, in contrast to the wild carousing carrying to his ears from behind him in the city. The darkness softly called to him. Just a faint whisper in the wind.

He stepped toward it. Just one step in the direction of the destiny he felt was beckoning him, that was all it took. His mind was made up. He had to see for himself. He knew the direction of the cliffs. He knew these woods almost as well as he knew the Crull streets. He could find his way to the cliffs even in the dark. He had not ever spent time searching for anything on the cliffs. There was no coin to steal in the cliffs. He wished he had spent a little more time near the cliffs now though, he had never walked the cliffs at night. If he was not careful it could prove fatal.

He had however walked the forest many times during the day and the night. He knew the forest well enough to always know his proximity to the cliffs. Getting there would not be a problem. If he concentrated, he imagined he could even hear the falls echoing from the cliffs from a distance. The cliffs divided the lands from north to south here. He would steer some distance from there at night usually. Even as well as he knew these lands, he would not want to inadvertently step off of the cliffs being a fool. Tonight, he would take that risk though. He had to see the glow for himself. If the Imp were not real, he would know it.

He had heard tales of the little people from the time he was a boy. It was a far-fetched belief of the Windal people. Like dragons or the tusked lion. One of many tales of strange creatures that lived where men had not settled. There were many folk tales the old told the young. He figured they were stretched tales to scare the children from adventuring far from the protection of their parents.

All it did with Nabal however was fill him with wonder. Did large apes with silver hair really exist? Or the armored unicorn with the body of the elephant and a single perilous horn protruding from the end of its nose. It all seemed a little ridiculous to him. He snorted to himself, yet he kept walking forward.

His heartbeat slowly in his chest imagining how he would react if he did see one of these bizarre creatures in the darkness. His ears picked up every rustling in the leaves. Every squeak in the tall grass. Every cry, hoot, and howl. His mind painted vivid images of imagined creatures like the black cat half the size of a horse stalking the darkness around him. These things were tales for kids. How did they still feel him with terror? It was just his imagination and the absence of sight. It made his mind play tricks on him. He tried to block out the sound of his own footfalls. The sound of a cracking branch made him freeze momentarily listening intently with his ears perked. Several seconds of holding his breath picturing all the mythical creatures that supposedly could see him in the blackness. He laughed out loud at his gullibility. Another crack shot him through the forest at a dead sprint. He might have made it forty feet before he ran head-on into a tree. Despite the darkness, he could see the stars before his eyes plainly.

Raising up from his back and rubbing his now bleeding forehead he chided himself for his foolishness. How many times had he walked these woods? He brushed the dirt from his backside. Had he ever been attacked? No. He sat for a moment and regained his composure. Stop it. Stop imagining hairy predators in the night. He pulled his bow and drew an arrow. If anything was dumb enough to get to close enough, he would fire first and find out what it was at first light.

He pulled his dark hood over his head and walked slowly trying not to make noise as he lay each foot down on the leaf-covered ground. He had never been so scared in these woods since he was a small boy. There was far more to be afraid of sleeping on the Crull streets at night at ten years old than any mythical creature he might come across in the woods. Where would they hide in the daytime? Would he not have caught a glance of one on his many journeys to rob the greedy and rich of the seven kingdoms? He had seen deer and rabbits. He was so at home in the forest he practically was a mythical creature. He knew these woods better than the streets of Windal.

Nabal reminisced his past delightful snatch and run missions in these very woods. He was fleet of foot, silent as a shadow when fleeing his most recent robbery. None had ever followed him long into the thick underbrush. He felt calmer keeping his thoughts on his swindles. Nothing had filled his heart with more delight than to relieve rich travelers of their heavy purses. Something moved in the darkness and broke him from his revelry.

He swallowed his fear. How long had he walked? His feet were tired. He must have walked at least thirty hilltops by now. He could not be far. He stilled his heart to hear over its beating like he would before he fired his bow. There it was, the river pouring over the cliffs in the distance. He could hear it. Faint but sure as the sun would rise in the east. His eyes had adjusted enough to at least see the trees in the forest nearest him. His eyes burned from exhaustion. He closed one eye to relieve the burning. He could smell the cool water as he drew nearer. The sound of the river began to build to a steady roar. He was very close. He stumbled on something too soft to be a rock. He knelt down and felt around estimating where the object had caught his foot. Then he felt it. A single leather boot. Had he somehow walked directly to where the crazy drunk had traveled? Was that even possible? “I guess it is destiny,” Nabal spoke to the sky above.

He ran his fingers over the leather boot in the darkness. Then he heard a sound that carried on the stillness of the forest. A sound unlike that of night scavengers. It was a sound that no animal could make that he had ever heard of. It had a melodious tone. It had a sorrowful note to it. He could not hear words, but he could recognize the sound of singing, small and light like the flutter of a hummingbird’s wings. He crept toward it and began to see a light in the darkness. Like the light, you would see, if a dozen stars decided to gather together in one place, in the night sky. They made a fern glow in the dark. It grew brighter before pulsing down to faint light and building back to its original brightness again mimicking the rhythm of the melody.

He stared unblinkingly. The tune grew clearer as he picked his way toward it feeling out in front of him with his free hand. There were layers to the singing. Chanting mixed with other singers singing more drawn-out higher notes. He could also make out the sound of a flute.

He stumbled on something else in the darkness. Something bigger and softer. He fell down without taking his eyes off the faint glow in the darkness. It was larger than the boot. It was also a leather object. Something the Crull would make. Something cheap but functional. A leather pack with a shoulder strap. It was filled with something heavy.

Most days he would be very interested in such a find, but he couldn’t draw his attention from the light in the forest. He lifted the bag by the strap and threw the bag over his shoulder. This was just further confirmation that the drunk old man may have been telling a true story. Maybe the childhood tales were true. There are things that exist in this world that are unexplainable, unbelievable.

Nabal knew this was a task that would take patience. If the childhood tales had any truth to them, it would be similar to fishing. He would have to bide his time. He would be very still. He needed some time for the Crull district to cool down anyway. He found a trunk and settled down in the tall grass. He faced the direction the crazy old man seemed to be running from based on the distribution of his items. The darkness engulfed him like blindness. The light of the moon and stars was blocked by the canopy of the overhead trees. All blackness, except the faint light before him.

He sat so still he forgot to breathe. He forgot to blink until his eyes burned. He could hear every cricket and frog. He could hear the deer bounding in the distance. He could hear his own breath. He could see nothing. Not even his own finger if he poked himself in the eye. His mind wandered to imagining again how many things could see him in the darkness as he sat easy prey. He looked around frantically but there was no way to tell for sure if his eyes were even open short of continuously checking with his fingers. The darkness was so thick he felt he could cut it with the blade of his hand.

As he sat pondering the light a troubling thought came to him. Who would watch over the girls tonight? He had always been there to watch over them as they slept. Though he was unwelcome, as the girls believed themselves to be self-sufficient. Crull pride coursed through their veins as well as any boy growing up on those perilous streets until a stronger more vicious Crull destroyed that pride. Something that happened to all Crull at one time or another. Something Nabal had sworn to protect them from. A bit of guilt rose in his chest, and he swallowed it down not wanting to delve into the memory in the darkness. Nothing a bottle wouldn’t help him forget when he got back.

Then he saw something, and his heart stopped cold for three beats. There was a distinct glow as bright as candlelight placed in the tall weeds. It didn’t flicker though, and it glowed blue. It was coming from another direction. He could hear it sing as well, as faint as a brown leaf blowing across a stone pavement. It drew nearer to him. The song grew louder, only slightly, just enough to make out words. Eerie words. Words that would haunt a child's dreams and awake them in a sweat.