A pallid, thin, and brooding young man stood at the entrance of the forest. His scarred hand held a small lantern. There was a momentary hint of the setting sun, the white covered forest was warmed in a breath-taking roseate shimmer, before the clouds flooded the sky and the cold came in. In the thickened darkness, snow fell through a veil of fog onto towering trees. From behind almost frosted glasses peered out gloomy blue eyes which caught the glimpse of a familiar candle-like flame. The very same that Cora had seen her last day alive.
Obscured in the forest, the light danced upon the snow. However, its ethereal fire did not disturb the snow, it only cast a red shadow on the crisp white forest floor. Ansel crept towards the coruscating creature which had begun to hum a melancholic lullaby. Cautiously, he reached out at the peculiar wisp of light. Ansel watched as it vanished and reappeared, leaving a blood red trail in its wake, luring him further into the woods. Obediently, he answered to its calling.
The fresh ice crunched under heavy oil stained boots as the sound vibrated against hollow oak disturbing the eerie silence of the forest. With his lantern abandoned, the wisps were his only guiding light. They burned and burst along an overgrown narrow footpath. Roots of trees that seemed to have clawed out the ground lay twisted across the path bearing an uncanny resemblance to how Cora's arms broke her fall in the mud last spring, running after something that Ansel couldn't quite see. She was so lucid that day. Dread gripped at his throat, and yet he did not turn back. He helplessly heeded the beckoning call of the wisps and followed them deeper into the forest.
The fog slowly lifted as the wisps poured out into an isolated glade. They gathered in the center, hovering above a small frozen pond. The eye of the forest. Suddenly, flames roared up towards the sky. A shape formed in their flames, a silhouette of a woman burned brightly against the ice. The wisps light finally gave heat, and started to melt the icy pond. Ansel watched spellbound as the ice gave way to a gaunt body, her crimson hair flowed out like spilt blood. Cora. Silently, she reached out to him with her left hand. Ansel could see the remnants of his flesh under her
fingernails. His scar gnawed with guilt. He failed to save her. Ansel came closer to her, admiring her beautiful pale face, tenderly taking her hand. Death truly becomes her. Slowly, her right hand emerged holding a sharp dagger of ice. He understood now. Ansel took a sigh of relief as he grasped the blade. He pierced it through his chest and into his heart. A dark red shadow was cast upon the neighbouring trees, as his last exhale gurgled through the silence. Their souls had left forests where they fell. This was the will of the wisps.