Never alone.
Massive trees, natural gods of the ancient world stood as pillars, tearing the ground around them with roots that forever spread out; tendrils of life seeking water and nourishment. The canopy greedily consumed the sunlight leaving none or little for the forest floor; moss and other plants that thrive in darkness making up the majority of the fauna that played about the bases of the trunks. Waves of earth rolled across the terrain; smooth hills ended in jagged rock faces with minute holes and tunnels mapping the lives of creatures who thrived in the still darkness of the wood. Silence reined, interrupted only by a branch creaking in the wind or the occasional call of a songbird, though these were rare. Few birds enjoyed the permanent darkness of the Aphotic Wildwood and those who lived in the canopy hardly sang at all for fear of the predators that roamed the vast expanses of sky. Predators and prey; endlessly pursuing and being pursued through generations; a cycle never ending.
Near the middle of the wood, a place dark and old as time immemorial, was a clearing on the forest floor; trees all around leaning towards the centre, their branches filling the void above that would otherwise have allowed some meagre respite from the everlasting night. Small and almost perfectly circular, the area was filled with cobblestones, fit together in a spiral that spun inwards until it reached a pool. A tiny pool that was only a few feet across and filled with a crystal clear liquid that provided a faint light blue glow which revealed the state of the stones surrounding it. Cracked and crumbled with moss growing over and through, once glorious perfection decimated by time and nature. No birds called here, no animals hunted or foraged; this small clearing pulled the silence around itself like fur in winter.
A whisper of a sound pierced the veil; echoes careening around the Wildwood like the ripples of a tiny stone dropped in a smooth lake. An eternity seemed to pass as an uneasy peace settled once more; a new stillness that contained the anticipation of something more. The whisper returned; louder this time and bringing with it a pulse in the gentle light. Growing brighter for a mere instant, the light faded back dimmer than the start, letting the pitch black close in around the pool. Again it pulsed; again faded, the susurration pulsing with the light until barely audible; when one final time the clearing was bathed in warming light only to be plunged into darkness.
Alone.