INTERLUDE: A QUIET DAY IN MISTWOOD
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I sat in the clubhouse, our treehouse nestled high in the branches of the giant maple on the De'Endar compound, looking out over the sprawling estate below. The morning light filtered through the dense leaves, casting dappled shadows across the table where we all sat. Six weeks had passed since the attack on Mistwood—six weeks since we had stood shoulder to shoulder against the Felderians. But those days felt distant now, like a dream fading with the dawn.
The quiet of the compound should have been comforting, but it only served to remind me of how much had changed. The sounds of war were still echoing in my mind, even if Mistwood was calm for now. I glanced at Euros, Sirisi, and Artyom—my cousins, my closest friends—who were all lost in their own thoughts. The silence between us wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was heavy with unspoken worries.
I leaned back in my chair, my eyes wandering to the wooden ceiling of our clubhouse. This place had always been our refuge, our sanctuary from the world. But lately, even here, I couldn’t escape the weight of everything that was happening. My thoughts kept drifting to my father, Masdrin, and the others who were still fighting at The Wall. They were out there, leading the defense against a much larger Felderian force, and all I could do was wait.
The responsibility my father was shouldering weighed on me like a stone. I could see it in every letter that arrived from the front—each one making my mother, Guenwhyvar, more anxious. She tried to hide it, but I wasn’t a child anymore. I noticed the way she would sit in silence after reading them, her eyes distant, her thoughts a million miles away. And with each new letter, her fear seemed to grow.
I clenched my fists, feeling a mix of frustration and helplessness. What was in those letters? Why wouldn’t she tell me? I hated not knowing, not being able to do anything to help her. I was supposed to be strong, supposed to protect those I cared about, but how could I do that when I didn’t even know what we were facing?
I glanced at Sirisi, who was staring out the window, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of the map laid out on the table. She had been practicing her psionics more and more, trying to strengthen her abilities. Aunt Siri and Aunt Malice were both crucial to the battle at The Wall, and I knew Sirisi was feeling the same restlessness I was. She wanted to help, to be there with them, but we were all stuck here, on the sidelines.
Euros, on the other hand, had buried himself in strategy. He admired the minds of his parents, Uncle Cydroc and Aunt Malice, and he’d been studying maps, gathering intelligence, and brainstorming ways we could support the war effort from here. I could see him itching to take action, but he knew as well as I did that we couldn’t just run off to the front. Our parents had made that clear.
Artyom was keeping himself busy with practical tasks, as always. He’d been making sure our supplies were stocked and ready, just in case. But I’d also seen him sketching more than usual, trying to capture the rare moments of peace in Mistwood—moments that seemed to be slipping away faster than we could hold onto them.
Suddenly, the sound of wings beating above the clubhouse caught my attention, pulling me out of my thoughts. I stood up and walked to the window, my heart sinking as I saw Felynica, Korlis’ mate, descending from the sky. She circled once before landing gracefully in her nest, high in the branches of the giant maple, right above us. The saddlebags strapped to her sides were full, carrying the latest letters from the front.
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“We should go get the mail,” I said, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me. The others nodded, and we made our way down from the treehouse.
Felynica was already settled in her nest when we approached, her keen eyes watching us as we climbed up to her. I carefully unfastened the separate saddlebag with our family’s letters. I opened it, my eyes immediately spotting another letter addressed to my mother. My heart sank. Another letter from the front, another piece of bad news, I was sure of it.
“Let’s take this to Mom first,” I suggested, the others agreeing with silent nods.
As we walked toward the house, I couldn’t stop the thoughts racing through my mind. I didn’t want to deliver this letter. I didn’t want to see the look in her eyes when she read it. But I had to. It was my responsibility.
After delivering the letter to my mother, we took the rest of the mail to Lord Robin, who thanked us and handed us a new mailbag filled with letters from the families to their loved ones at the front. The exchange was routine by now, but it didn’t make it any easier. Every letter we sent back to the front felt like a lifeline, a connection to the ones fighting so far away.
But as we walked back to the clubhouse, my mind was still on my mother. I’d seen how her demeanor had darkened with each letter, the fear that something was terribly wrong gnawing at me more with every day.
Back in the clubhouse, we spread out the maps and began discussing ideas—anything we could do to help the war effort. Euros suggested Sirisi could use her psionics to scout from a distance, and Artyom mentioned preparing supplies to send to the front. But deep down, we all knew we couldn’t follow through on any of these plans. Our parents had made it clear that the front was too dangerous, and we had agreed to respect those warnings.
Despite the seriousness of our conversation, we managed to share a few light-hearted moments. Euros teased Artyom about our “postal duties,” and we all recalled funny incidents from our past adventures. It helped, for a little while, to push the worries away and remember that we were still just kids, even in the midst of all this chaos.
But as the conversation wound down, the weight of reality settled back in. We were stuck in Mistwood, far from the front lines, far from the ones we loved, and it felt like there was nothing we could do to change that.
Later, as evening began to fall, I decided to head toward the manor. I told the others I needed to check on something, but in truth, I just wanted a change of scenery, to see if walking around might help clear my mind. The sun was starting to set, casting a warm glow over the estate, and the shadows stretched long across the ground.
As I cut through the garden on my way to the manor, the sight of my mother made me stop in my tracks. She was sitting on a bench, her back turned to me, a crumpled letter in her hand. Soft, muffled sobs reached my ears, and my heart tightened in my chest. Tears streamed down her face, her shoulders shaking with each sob. I had never seen her cry like this before.
I stood frozen, not knowing what to do. Seeing her like this, in the garden that was usually a place of peace, felt like a punch to the gut. I wanted to go to her, to comfort her, but something held me back. Maybe it was the fear that if I stepped closer, everything would unravel, that the fragile hold she had on her emotions would break completely.
Without making a sound, I quietly turned around and doubled back the way I had come. The image of her crying stayed with me, a heavy burden on my heart. I knew something was terribly wrong, and it was only a matter of time before I would have to confront it.
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