Spirit of the Forest

Twigs snapped and leaves crushed under the sole of Cyri’s boots. His only thought was to run, to get away as far as possible. To get away from them. From her.

There was no light to guide his footsteps. The tree’s leaves blocked out the moon’s light. But he didn’t need light to navigate in the dark. Cyri had learned how to move in the dark without hitting anything when he was much younger. Even in pitch black darkness, the results were the same.

Suddenly, he tripped on a fallen branch and stumbled into something soft and warm. He realized with a sickening feeling that it wasn’t a something, as much as a someone. Cyri stepped back. Partly from fear, partly from shock at seeing her.

Her purple eyes stared into him with a certain malice, staring into his soul. “Why hello, Cyri.”

He tried to speak, but found he couldn’t get a sound out no matter how hard he tried. “You know,” she said with a sickly sweet tone, “you have caused me a lot of trouble. Maybe I should do to you, what you did to me.” When she pulled out a knife, Cyri found that he could run.

Before he got more than a step away, he felt something lodge into his back.

The knife.

She had stabbed him.

Cyri jerked awake as soon as he hit the ground in his nightmare. White hot pain raced up his back when he moved. Holding back a scream of pain, he flopped back down onto the bed.

He frowned. Wait... A bed? Wasn’t he in a forest?

Light humming filled his ears, causing Cyri to open his eyes so he could look around.

He was in a small hut with wooden walls and a tall leaf ceiling. Everything seemed to be made out of wood: the chairs, table, everything. There was even a wooden sink with a girl by it, washing something that looked like food.

Cyri blinked when he saw the girl. She must have been around his age. The girl wore a simple white tunic with dark purple trimming. It went past her ankles, flowing along the ground around her. She hummed some kind of tune that he didn’t recognize. The song made him want to dance, except he couldn’t with his back. But what really caught his attention, was her hair. It was silver, pure silver, with light turquoise highlights and braided into one braid that went to the middle of her back.

She turned around after she was done washing the food and started to cut it up.

Cyri couldn’t help but watch her. Probably because the only thing to watch was her. Still, he had to compliment how confident the girl was. She never wavered in her job, just continued to chop the food and hum along.

When the girl turned to face him, Cyri saw she had dark emerald eyes.

“Oh, you’re awake?” Her voice sounded warm.

He nodded. Cyri did not want to speak just yet. Not until he knew if she was a friend or foe.

She smiled. “Good. Your wound had a slight infection, but it shouldn’t be there anymore.” She walked over to the pot with the food.

As she started to stir, Cyri realized he probably would have died if she hadn’t helped him. And that he was in her debt.

“Here.” The girl was holding out a bowl to him. It was filled with a rabbit stew that smelled like heaven. Cyri would have eaten it himself, but he couldn’t really sit up without hurting his back.

She seemed to have noticed and chuckled. “Oh, right.” She pulled out a wooden spoon and walked over to him. The girl then started to feed him, careful not to spill any on him. Cyri almost grinned with delight. The stew was as good as it smelled.

The girl grinned when she saw that he liked it. “You like it?”

Cyri nodded, momentarily forgetting that he was supposed to be silent. “It’s delicious. What is it?”

“Just rabbit stew with a few vegetables,” she said. “Nothing fancy.”

Once the bowl was empty, she walked over to the sink to wash it. As she washed his bowl, Cyri decided that she was definitely a friend and not foe. “By the way, my name’s Cyri.”

The girl turned to him, smiling. “Hello Cyri. My name’s Romelia.”

He smiled back at her. “That name seems to fit. It means moon child in Vorithian.”

Romelia tipped her head, obviously confused.

“Nevermind,” he said with a sigh.

“Okay then. If it makes you more comfortable, you can call me Moon.”

“Thanks, but Romelia is fine.”

When he yawned, Romelia tipped her head again. “Are you tired, Siri?”

“It’s Cyri, and a bit. Why?”

Romelia smiled warmly again. “Just hold on a second.” With that Romelia walked out.

Cyri wondered what she was going to do or get. She walked in again, causing Cyri to blink when he saw what she was carrying.

The young teen was holding a faded light blue quilt outlined with black on the edge. He could have sworn it was made by an expert, not some teen in the woods. Cyri was going to ask why she was living alone in the woods when she spread the quilt over him.

He couldn’t help but yawn as Romelia tucked him in, almost motherly. He would have asked again, but the quilt was too warm and soft, it almost put him to sleep immediately. But he managed to sneak a peek at Romela, who was eating by the window.

He couldn’t help but notice how her hair reflected the moon’s light. It made her look even more heavenly than before.