Chronicles of the Overworld Book 1 — Nihal of the Land of the Wind by Licia Troisi Read Free Book Online Page B

“Scared?”
    “Oh, great. I have a problem and you laugh!”
    Phos got a hold of himself. “Oh, all right. I like you, and you shared your breakfast with us, so I’ll do what I can to help you. We’ll ask the plants and trees to help you. All you have to do is—what was it you said? Oh, yes. Concentrate.”
    Nihal couldn’t thank him enough.

    Phos called the wood sprites to his side. When the assembly was finished, Phos gave Nihal a thumbs-up signal.
    Silence settled over the clearing.
    Nihal crossed to the rock and sat down, ready to concentrate. She had decided that this time, nothing and nobody would distract her.
    It was harder than she expected. Even with the help of the wood sprites, it seemed to Nihal as if she could hear nothing but the simple sounds of the woods: the wind blowing through the trees, the flutter of wings, the trickling water of the spring. Then, slowly, she became aware that the sounds contained a hidden music. At first, she thought it was just an impression, a flight of fancy brought on by the exertion of sitting still on the rock. Then the music grew more insistent and it was as if the sounds of nature were following their own melody. The wind blowing through the trees played the part of the upright bass and the drum. The evening dew sounded like a harp as it fell drop by drop into the spring. The twittering of the birds was a voice in song. Even the grass took part. Nihal could hear it grow. Its whisper served as the countermelody to the rest.
    That was when Nihal felt the sensation of the rock strong beneath her, and then of the earth itself. She felt their rhythmic pulsing like invisible arteries that flowed through her to the beat of a heart throbbing in every branch.
    Nature was speaking cryptic words that Nihal didn’t know, but all the same she understood their hidden meaning. They were saying that all is one and one is all. That everything begins and ends in the beauty of nature. That all the world’s beings are part of the great body of creation.
    Nihal felt an immense light flow through her and a warmth embrace her. She felt as if this breathtaking beauty were too much for her heart to withstand and worried she might founder, but then it was as if she were enclosed in motherly arms, which comforted her and taught her that in the midst of all that splendor, each being kept its own identity even as it contributed to the inseparable whole. That’s when she began to travel on the wings of the wind, astride the clouds.
    She saw lands of endless forests where everything was a blinding green. Then she felt like she was a blade of grass, a sun-kissed flower unfurling its delicate petals. After that, she was a tree, and she felt her branches penetrate the sky as they craned their leaves into the murmuring winds. She was fruit and fowl, fish and beast, and then, at last, naked earth, from which all seeds receive life and from which all beings come.
    In a flash, she felt as if she had understood the meaning of life.
    She felt a thousand years old and wise.
    She felt as if she’d been born, lived, and died millions of times.
    She felt that life would never end.

    When Nihal opened her eyes she made a sudden return to earth.
    It was darkest night. Sitting motionless on that rock, she’d traveled into the heart of nature. An entire day had passed. She leaned back against the rock, exhausted. Only then did she notice that the wood sprites were sitting in a circle at her feet. Each one let off a faint colored light. In the middle of them all, Phos lay on his stomach, his chin in his hands, and smiled up at her.
    “How was it?”
    “Amazing.” Nihal’s eyes and heart were still full of wonder.

    Phos saw to dinner.
    “You sit tight. We’ll find something for you to sink your teeth into,” he said, before disappearing into the foliage with a little herd of sprites. He came back at the head of a group of four of them carrying a cloth by its corners. Inside the cloth was a big bunch of the