The corners of her lips rose slightly into a subtle smile as Susanna drew in the coolness of the breeze. Her eyes were closed shut as she tried to imagine where the wind had been. It waltzed around her, tousling and toying with her hair in the way that her younger sister would do when they were children. What tales could the wind tell? What secrets did it hold? What sights had it beheld with its invisible eyes? Susanna held out for an answer, but the wind was not telling. All she would hear is the quiet hussssh as it gently moved across her ears.
Susanna was not a fanciful little girl chasing whims and dreaming by day. She was mature for her years, which were just more than a score. She knew better than to get caught up in wayward desires, tempting though it may be. Had she been a child again, perhaps she would have frolicked through the verdant meadow and felt the tall blades of the grass as they swept through her hands. She would have daintily lept from rock to rock as she curiously followed the water in the brook, her eyes affixed upon a bubble or a leaf as it traveled along the river’s course to whatever destiny lay in wait around the bend. Were the age of creation but ten years less, she would have nestled in the crook of a tree, its limbs a sturdy pillow for her head as she listened to the songs of the wrens.
Though she was no longer a child, she would still afford herself moments of brief imagination and memories of a younger age. Returning to this place brought back those memories very swiftly. Each one of her senses reported back to her in a way that each smell, each sound, and even the taste of the air was like having conversations with old friends. She wondered if the land, in turn, would remember her. It had been many years since her feet had trod on the ground her ancestors had named Cairnbridge. Just the sound of the name lifted her away from today and back to time gone by. It was a very special place.
Susanna did not believe in utopias or paradises or any magical realm sheltered from the fallen nature of the world. As much as she wanted to dwell here permanently, in time she was certain that it eventually would lose its allure and mystery. Its aura would grow paler and the excitement would turn humdrum. Had she been raised here, she would still love Cairnbridge, but in the way that one loves their home and yet longs to leave it for unseen places. As such, Susanna was thankful for each and every visit, for their brevity retained the enchantment she so cherished from her childhood. It was an oasis: not a permanent home, but a place to restore and refresh.
Though always a visitor, she knew the land well. As a child, she had given the familiar landmarks name: every misshapen boulder and peculiar tree had been christened by her. She walked along the paths she had taken dozens of times. Though they were not marked or paved, she could navigate them blindly. She recognized every type of flower and plant that grew in the area. She could identify the wildlife that called the woods their home, and her education even allowed her to provide their proper names. She now knew where the river went and how it became a larger tributary of a river that flowed into the sea a two hundred miles to the east. There was little mystery left to Cairnbridge, a thought that somewhat saddened Susanna.
Regardless, she enjoyed her stroll. The day was beautiful in its brightness. A long winter had passed and it was one of the first days in many months that she could go without a sweater. Her long dress reached to below her ankles and swayed to and fro as she walked, its hems lightly tickling her toes which peeked through her open-toed sandals. It was not fancy by any means, but it was one of her favorite dresses, as she had tailored it herself. Many of its garish predecessors had long since been dismissed from her wardrobe, but she was quite proud of this one. Periwinkle was one of her favorite colors and it paired well with her naturally auburn hair, and she was thankful that the cotton fabric she had found for it was so light and soft.
At last she had come to Lydia and Dan, two twin willow trees that grew side-by-side and draped their leaves over the brook like half finished archways. They had grown a little taller and thicker since Susanna had last seen them. In a way, it appeared that they had actually grown closer together, which made her smile. They stood as friendly reminders that it was time to return home, as the journey back to the estate from that point would take about an hour. “Thanks, you two,” she said with a cheerful curtsey, “and as always, it’s good seeing you again.” Their leaves undulated in the wind, as if to return the greeting.
Before reversing direction, Susanna took a moment and paused. Everything was just as she had remembered it, every detail relatively unchanged...except for one. She took in a breath of air. It was crisp, as usual this time of spring. Something was different, however. She just barely detected a vague scent. It was a pleasing aroma, which she likened to sandalwood and frankincense. Breathing in more, she discovered that the scent grew stronger to the north.
That was very intriguing to her, because she had never smelled anything like this around Cairnbridge. She knew the scents of the trees of the forest and of the flowers of the field, but this was something very different. Quite frankly, she had not taken in anything like it before anywhere in her travels. What was it? Where was it coming from? she wondered.
Following her nose, she wandered through the wooded areas she knew so well and as the fragrance grew stronger, she felt a growing feeling of curiosity and enterprise. She was entering a part of the forest that was not immediately familiar to her, which was odd considering how many times she had not been too far from her present location.
She kept walking until she could no longer hear the babbling waters of the brook. She saw a break in the trees ahead and her eyes took notice of a clearing. It was a small glade. It was not a very large space; another ten yards and Susanna would find herself back in the forest. Tall birch trees surrounded it like a fence, standing as sentinels. They blocked much of the sunlight, but a few rays shone down giving the area a soft illumination.
The glade was very bare, though serene. Apart from a carpet of grass, there was no other vegetation, nor any rocks. Stepping foot on the soft ground, Susanna was naturally compelled to slip off her slightly worn leather sandals. Her eyes open in wonder, her now-bare feet felt almost chilly against the silken smooth grass. With each step, the blades would bow to the ground under her feet and she had an inkling that she was the first to stand in this hidden sanctum in a very long time.
While the grass was cool, the air was warmer here, especially as she walked where the sun was shining down. Standing in its midst, the fragrance that had led her to this place was very strong now--almost overwhelmingly so--though she still could not identify its source. Breathing deeply, the smell was more powerful than ever and it was so wonderful that it gave her very being a sense of peace, like arms holding her tightly with love. She could not help but let out a childlike giggle. It was of the sort that she had not escaped her lips in a very long time and realizing this caused Susanna to break out into even more laughter. She truly was like a child again and the entire glade gently echoed with her glee.
However, before the smile could leave her countenance, suddenly and all at once the fragrance was gone! This caught Susanna very much off guard, as it quickly disappeared mere seconds after nearly overpowering her. Becoming very aware of her environment, she noticed that it was eerily quiet. She could not hear the birds nor the crawling things. Indeed, the very breeze had stilled. She realized that she was now surrounded by the trees and that she could not remember from which direction she had emerged. Peaceful just moments ago, Susanna quickly felt emotions of disorientation and uneasiness.
More than that, she also became acutely aware that she was not alone...