THE WHISPERING STONES

It happens at night one day when I’m alone in the woods.

Don’t ask me why I am in the woods at night. It’s an idiosyncrasy of mine when I’m out camping, and I love camping.

I’m hiking back to my campsite, following the beam from my headlamp. There’s enough moonlight to see the trail dimly, but I’m tired, my feet ache, and I don’t want to trip over any random roots. It’s only a little further, I tell myself. Just a little further.

Then I see them. The standing stones. Just off to the side of the trail, in a clearing that should not and has never been here.

They’re arranged in a circle, their massive forms looming up in the moonlight. I’ve never seen them before, even though I’ve hiked this trail dozens of times.

I approach, drawn by some inexplicable feeling. The stones have a strange aura about them. I can feel it in the air, tingling my skin. Almost goosebumps.

As I get closer, I see the stones covered in strange markings. They’re not words, but something else, like hieroglyphics. A language I don’t recognize.

I know I should not, but I reach out and touch one of the stones. It’s cold and smooth to the touch. I close my eyes and concentrate.

Suddenly, I’m standing in a different place. A barren landscape, with no trees or grass. The sky is black, and the faint starlight washes the stones a pale ghostly white. Yes, the stones are still there, though all else is changed.

I’m in the center of the stone circle and a group of strange people are dancing or posturing around the inside of the circle. They’re wearing strange clothes, a design I’ve never seen before, and seamless. It almost seems as if the clothing is painted on. Their faces are painted too, and they’re chanting in a sonorous language that I don’t understand.

I watch as they work their way around the circle, counterclockwise, all of them facing the stones. Their backs are to me and I’m somehow glad they can’t see me. I know I’m witnessing something important. Something sacred.

I want to say something, but I can’t find the words.

Suddenly, the chanting stops and they turn and face the center of the circle. They seem to be looking directly at me. I notice that their eyes are unnaturally white, or is it just the weird starlight?

Then the vision ends. I’m back in the present, standing in the circle of standing stones. The trees are back and I can see the trail a few meters beyond the perimeter of the circle.

I look around. The stones seem different now. Their aura has grown stronger.

I can feel a power, pulsing through the air. There’s also something else. The sense of a looming presence. Something really old and inscrutable.

I take a step back, feeling overwhelmed. Then I stumble out of the circle and towards the trail. My headlamp has gone out but I can still make out the path in the wan moonlight.

I’m just past the stones when I hear a voice. It’s in my head. There’s no sound to break the stillness of the forest night.

“Don’t be afraid,” the voice says. “We are here to help you.”

I look around but don’t see anyone. I’m not imagining it. Something or someone is talking to me in my head.

“Who are you?” I ask.

“We are the guardians of the stones,” the voice says. “We have been watching you for a long time.”

“Me?” I ask, bewildered. I realize I am speaking aloud in response to the voice in my head.

“Your kind,” the voice says.

I take a deep breath. “What do you want?” I ask.

“We want to teach you about the stones,” the voice says. “We want to teach you about their power.”

I hesitate. I’m not sure if I’m ready for this. Something tells me if I move forward I will be in very deep water indeed.

“Don’t worry,” the voice says. “We will be with you every step of the way.”

“Oh no. They can read my thoughts too.” I’m beginning to panic. I have a feeling that if I don’t agree I won’t be leaving this place.

I close my eyes and nod. “Okay,” I say. “I’m ready.”

The stones begin to glow. I can feel their power coursing through my veins. An immense clarity fills my mind as if I can see the answer to a particularly knotty problem. I feel different, more aware, in a way that I wasn’t before.

Slowly, I open my eyes. The world around me is still the same, but somehow also changed. The trees are taller and the air is sweeter. I can see around me clearly, although it is still dark.

I smile and look up at the stones. “Thank you,” I say, and this time I don’t say it aloud.

The stones glow even brighter for a moment. Then the glow fades and only the moonlight remains. The stones are just stones now, although I can sense their brooding underlying presence.

I wonder if they will be here tomorrow if I return. I know I will return. The stones are not done with me yet.

I turn and walk away, knowing that things will never be the same again.

As I make my way back to my campsite I can’t help feeling a vague sense of unease. Something about the stones disturbs me, although I can’t quite put my finger on it.

I know I’ve made a pact with something powerful. Something that I don’t fully understand.

But it’s too late to turn back now. The journey has already begun.

The path I tread now is dangerous and powerful, and I will walk it alone.