Neth

https://www.deviantart.com/cumalee/art/Neth-1183852899

“When the wind dies and the lights flicker, you may hear it. A whisper of motion in the brush. A glimpse through a shutter. Do not follow. Do not call its name. It will not answer. It does not know what it is. It does not know you.”

Neth, the Hollow Wisp

Neth, the Hollow Wisp, is a creature rarely seen, and even more rarely understood. Though stories of its appearance date back generations in various regions, few can describe it the same way twice. What remains consistent is its unmistakable silhouette: tall, thin, with loosely hanging plumage the color of old parchment or dried corn husk, concealing a skeletal frame beneath. Its feathers drape like robes, swaying with every movement, and are often described as unnaturally clean despite its forested habitat—never muddy, never torn, as if untouched by the world around it. Its head resembles a bird’s skull, smooth and featureless save for a pair of recessed, glowing eyes.

Neth is almost always seen at night or just before dawn, when the forest is still and the light is low. Its presence is preceded by a faint sound—soft clacking, like dry wood tapping in slow rhythm. Those who have come across it describe the atmosphere as heavy, not with threat, but with curious stillness, as though the air itself holds its breath while Neth passes through. Around it float pale yellow wisps—small, soft pulses of light that drift lazily, unaffected by wind, always hovering just a little out of reach. These lights do not respond to touch and seem to vanish the moment one looks directly at them. They offer no heat, no sound, and appear neither magical nor natural, as though they belong to Neth the same way dust clings to old cloth.

Despite its unsettling visage, Neth has never been recorded harming any living thing. It exhibits no hunger, no territorial behavior, and no aggression, even when cornered. When spotted, it reacts with abrupt, jittery motion—springing away with uneven speed, feathers fluttering, bones clacking—often vanishing into bramble or shadow with uncanny silence. It does not cry out, and it never attempts to communicate. At most, it may turn its head and watch for a moment before deciding to flee.
Some accounts speak of Neth peering through windows in the dead of night, its face dimly visible behind a veil of softly glowing wisps. In such cases, the creature does not try to enter or interact—it simply lingers, sometimes for minutes at a time, before turning and vanishing into the dark. Whether it is drawn to warmth, sound, or merely movement is unknown. Folk superstition holds that Neth is more likely to appear during the cold season, particularly during nights with no moon. Children are told to draw the curtains if they hear bones clicking, and not to acknowledge the light if they see it at their window. While these warnings are delivered with fear, they come without hatred. Neth is not hunted. It is simply avoided, as one might avoid walking too near the edge of a cliff or speaking in a cemetery at night.

Scholars who have attempted to study Neth speculate that it is not a creature in the usual sense, but a phenomenon given form—perhaps a cadaver or long-dead bird reanimated not by necromancy or spirit, but by centuries of layered ritual. Ancient ceremonies, performed again and again in the same place, may have left an echo in the world strong enough to imprint on the matter around it. A traveler once wrote of finding a clearing in which the air felt “cut by rhythm”—as though something had danced there endlessly, shaping the very soil. It is believed that Neth originated from such a site, not as the return of a soul, but as the accidental animation of forgotten purpose. The body may have once been human, or avian, or neither—it no longer matters. What remains is only the result: a being shaped by old, decayed instructions.

Neth continues its rituals even now, though none can say what those rituals mean. It spins, it hops, it sways—sometimes alone in a clearing, sometimes at the edge of a frozen river, sometimes atop a hill no longer marked on any map. No pattern has yet been found. No goal can be discerned. Its dance may once have called rain or spirits or healing or death, but now it brings only silence.

It is unknown how long Neth has existed, or whether others like it drift quietly through other forests. It does not appear to age or wear down. Its bones remain intact, its feathers unmolded, and its lights never fade. It simply continues. When asked what Neth is, those few who have seen it simply say: It’s still here.

And perhaps that is what Neth is—a remnant of memory, too faint to remember, too persistent to disappear.

How to Purchase

-You can purchase through my page on deviantart. Upon payment, you’ll receive a link to the full-resolution artwork, watermark-free version and standalone version. If there’s any issue, feel free to contact me, and I’ll ensure you receive your files promptly