Unknown time, unknown date, unknown realm

Four figures moved along the path in front of them, winding and meandering through a great and vast Forest. The trees so large and towering that only speckles of bright sunlight shone through to dapple the crisp leaves on the ground. The mighty oaks, chestnuts and maples swayed with the gentle breeze and dropped their heavy burden to prepare for winter. The pines did not drop needles but pine cones instead. The two smaller figures darted back and forth upon the path. Picking up pinecones and tossing them back and forth at each other and at any unwary squirrel they strayed on. The squirrels then running chattering insults at the rudeness.

The two larger figures walked arm in arm behind the small ones. Smiling and talking about the destination and their small companions. It was a peaceful and beautiful scene. Like one might find portrayed in pictures or great stories.

The two small figures came forward to a slight opening in the forest where a small brook made its way down. Once into the clearing and slightly out of the cover of the tall trees an enormous mountain soaring nearly to the clouds became visible. Strange to see one singular mountain all on its own. Surrounded by only forest. Well perhaps not only forest because the stand of rock was totally blocking the view of anything beyond it as it was so huge.

Soon seen at the brook was a bridge crossing it. Wooden and seemingly ancient if the moss and wildflowers that grew on its stones at at its base had any say. But the boards and beams looking but freshly cut and placed no sooner than this spring. This brook, the forest beyond and the mountain all hummed with a deep kind of magic. Ancient and nearly sleeping. It was visible to those who know how to look. And to young children that haven't yet grown and lost their wonder at the world around them.

The smallest figure scampered up and onto the bridge. A little girl. A very little girl. Unable to see over the railing she crawled up to lean over. A difficult task with an arm load of pine cones still. The water of the brook rushed below. A dark blue and deep water. But very strangely not cold and icy as most brooks and streams that come off a mountain are. Indeed if the autumn weather turned any cooler the water might even seem to steam and throw off breath into the cold air. The little girl started dropping pines cones in one by one into the brook. Racing away like tiny boats. The other small figure, a small boy this time stopped to watch and grinned. Dropping his load of pine cones he picked up the largest rock he could get and lumbered up to the old yet young bridge. The rock was far too heavy for him to lift alone over the railing. The little girl tossed the last of her pine cones and with great effort they together got the rock up and onto the railing. Smiling and laughing they tipped the rock over the railing where it landed with a slapping splash. The splash soaking the little children until it squished down into their soft shoes. A moment of shock temporarily silenced the children. But soon broke with loud squeals and shrieks.

At this point the two taller figures had caught up to the small children. And paused to watch the children dripping wet. One rolling their eyes and the other bursting out laughing. Each adult picked a child and pulled the wet coat off them. Replacing it with a silk wrap and a sweater from each adult. Each parent. The smaller parent carefully placing the wet coats on the railing of the bridge. As if to dry on a close-line. She then spoke to the children. Now you know we didn't just come here for a nice walk and for you to get soaking wet. The little girl snuggling in closer in her arms. While the boy flapped like a bird in the arms of the too big sweater. Do you remember the way here and the story I told you? Over the river and thru the woods the boy sang in a slightly off key and high pitched tone. Yes she answered, but the path does not lead to grandmother's house. Or a house really. But it goes all the way up to the mountain and up to what once was a mighty fortress. Whats a fortress the boy asked. Like a castle the parent holding him replied, still avoiding the flapping arms of the sweater. Not entirely unlike a castle the other parent agreed. It was once a great fortress home to our ancestors. Home to many family's and peoples. The little boy squirmed uncomfortably...Not like ghosts he asked. No the small parent answered. The fortress is totally abandoned and empty. No one lives there now. However it is still a place of great power and protection for you. If you are in trouble and need it you can always find your way here. We need you both to remember this place and how to get here. Can you? Yes the little boy said, the little girl nodding in agreement.

The adults then turned and headed back the way they came. Each carrying a precious child. Laughing as the boy now flapped the arms of the sweater at the little girl to make her squeal. The forest was quiet then as the sound of footsteps in crunch leaves faded. Completely forgotten the two tiny coats. One for the boy and one for the girl still draped on the railing. Now curiously dry. And seemingly wait for their owners to come back. Waiting.