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Description
You will find the first as you enter the jeweled woods; nature is, after all, Satan's church. She will claw your legs with brambled limbs, shrouding you with her incense, decaying skeletons of leaves. Beware of the daffodils that sway on the banks; don't be drawn by their sunshine. She will weave her vines to protect you from the rain, but the birds will awake soon. She will send them for your eyes.

The second lurks in the city; he will not meet you, but you will feel his eyes from the twisted veins in the pavement. He will creep down the walls in the damp. See your reflection in the cold, polished glass; smile at them, but stay in the centre of the road. Hop across the white islands. Don't step on the cracks.

Go to the river to find the third; down onto the grassy bank, where diamonds are scattered. They will burst under your feet. The murky river drags itself forward and mud swirls in it like gold dust. Do not stop to look, for the third is waiting under the bridge. Silver snakes writhe on the dank walls, and he will offer you a dagger or a mirror. Choose carefully, but do not linger; he has other business.

The fourth is curled up on the hearth, piled in furs. She won't talk to you; she is watching the tongues of flame ripple and dance, crimson and orange and gold fragmented in her emerald eyes. Feel the warmth kiss your cheek, but don't be enticed by it's caress. It will blacken your bones, and she will use them to write fairytales on the walls. Bid her goodnight. Move on.

You will find the fifth as you enter the palace; he is the one people know well. Pass the banquet and do not eat. The fruit, bewitched into their harlequin designs, hide worms at their core. Approach him and return his wolf smile, but do not tell him where you are going. Avoid the sick juices that seep from his throne; hold your breath, or the stench will creep, insidious, into your memory.

The sixth will claw at your heart and burn in the back of your eyes. Ashen skin stretched taut over bones, you can count the notches in her spine. Blood blooms in grotesque roses on the white walls; the crimson horror clings to her as a viscous second skin. You may leave her the gift that the third offered you; I pray you chose wisely. The black pits in her skull will plead, but you must leave; you can do no more.

If you can, find a place to call home; this is where you will find the seventh. She is in the creak of the bottom step; in the patterns you find in the ceiling; in the scorch marks on the table. Her glamours will wrap you in orange comfort as you curl up in the corners of her heart. She will kiss you goodnight, her pine-scented hair gently brushing your face. Fear her most of all.

Description
You will find the first as you enter the jeweled woods; nature is, after all, Satan's church. She will claw your legs with brambled limbs, shrouding you with her incense, decaying skeletons of leaves. Beware of the daffodils that sway on the banks; don't be drawn by their sunshine. She will weave her vines to protect you from the rain, but the birds will awake soon. She will send them for your eyes.

The second lurks in the city; he will not meet you, but you will feel his eyes from the twisted veins in the pavement. He will creep down the walls in the damp. See your reflection in the cold, polished glass; smile at them, but stay in the centre of the road. Hop across the white islands. Don't step on the cracks.

Go to the river to find the third; down onto the grassy bank, where diamonds are scattered. They will burst under your feet. The murky river drags itself forward and mud swirls in it like gold dust. Do not stop to look, for the third is waiting under the bridge. Silver snakes writhe on the dank walls, and he will offer you a dagger or a mirror. Choose carefully, but do not linger; he has other business.

The fourth is curled up on the hearth, piled in furs. She won't talk to you; she is watching the tongues of flame ripple and dance, crimson and orange and gold fragmented in her emerald eyes. Feel the warmth kiss your cheek, but don't be enticed by it's caress. It will blacken your bones, and she will use them to write fairytales on the walls. Bid her goodnight. Move on.

You will find the fifth as you enter the palace; he is the one people know well. Pass the banquet and do not eat. The fruit, bewitched into their harlequin designs, hide worms at their core. Approach him and return his wolf smile, but do not tell him where you are going. Avoid the sick juices that seep from his throne; hold your breath, or the stench will creep, insidious, into your memory.

The sixth will claw at your heart and burn in the back of your eyes. Ashen skin stretched taut over bones, you can count the notches in her spine. Blood blooms in grotesque roses on the white walls; the crimson horror clings to her as a viscous second skin. You may leave her the gift that the third offered you; I pray you chose wisely. The black pits in her skull will plead, but you must leave; you can do no more.

If you can, find a place to call home; this is where you will find the seventh. She is in the creak of the bottom step; in the patterns you find in the ceiling; in the scorch marks on the table. Her glamours will wrap you in orange comfort as you curl up in the corners of her heart. She will kiss you goodnight, her pine-scented hair gently brushing your face. Fear her most of all.