The Hasrs

It doesn't take long for them to arrive. I know this by the sound of rustling leaves all around us, and the faint squeaking.

The first one reveals itself after some time. 

So that's…that's a hasrs.

It's…so small. And…well…

Those eyes, round, occupying half the face, are black, like a void. No, like an image of the vastness of space, speckled with the random galaxy and stars of every color. I feel like if I look long enough, I could end up understanding the secrets of the void.

I shake myself, pulling myself from the hasrs' mesmerizing eyes. 

In the hasrs' right hand is a glass-like staff with a pointed end. 

It's floating, I realize. Its feet are not touching the ground.